


Left and Right

by psychobabblers



Series: Star Wars AU 'verse [1]
Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Star Wars, M/M, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-08-15
Updated: 2012-01-03
Packaged: 2017-10-22 15:30:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 24,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/239551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/psychobabblers/pseuds/psychobabblers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Light is the left hand of darkness<br/>and darkness the right hand of light.<br/>Two are one, life and death, lying<br/>together like lovers in kemmer,<br/>like hands joined together,<br/>like the end and the way.</p><p>Charles is a Jedi in a galaxy ruled by the Sith. Erik is a Sith lord, feared as the emperor's apprentice. Their paths collide when Erik takes Charles prisoner, leading them down a new road that will bring an empire to its knees.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The title and quote are from Ursula K. Le Guin's The Left Hand of Darkness.
> 
> I've taken several liberties with the Star Wars universe. The multiple Sith was an issue since the movies very specifically say that there are only two Sith at one time, but then I remembered the excellent Knights of the Old Republic series, which even had a Sith academy. For any other little differences, I probably changed it to fit the story better.
> 
> This is not set with any time period in mind.

Charles is packing for the trip when Raven bursts into his room.

"I'm coming with you," she says without preamble.

"No you're not," Charles says wearily, looking for that clean pair of socks he had found earlier. "It’s too—"

"Too dangerous?" Raven finishes for him, eyes flinty. "You said it was just a routine patrol!"

"It is," Charles insists, and then relents. He lowers his voice despite their being in the privacy of his own chambers. "There’s been talk of a star destroyer. The underground is rife with reports and rumors on its movements. As well as who is commanding it."

"A star destroyer?” Raven hisses. "Why didn't I hear about this sooner?"

"Keep your voice down," Charles implores. "And you didn’t hear about it because it’s on a need to know basis.” He rubs his eyes tiredly and tries for a smile. “Just please, stay here. I'll be back before you know it."

Raven glares at him. "I'm not a child anymore, you know," she says. "You can't protect me forever."

Charles watches her stomp out the door. _No, but I wish I could._

* * *

Fall back!" Charles shouts. He deflects a burst of blaster bolts with a quick swing of his lightsaber, frowning when the Force whispers something.

 _Alex. Darwin. Be careful. There's something else—_

Oh bugger, Charles thinks. A huge, roiling force of hate and rage has entered his range. There's only one person it can be in the known universe. The emperor's apprentice.

Charles feels the new foe pique with interest at the touch of his mind on his. Oh this is very, very bad.

He says so aloud.

And then he adds a few choice words to emphasize.

Alex and Darwin are fighting back to back, purple and blue lightsabers a whirling blur of colors, but they move toward him at his mental call. "What’d you sense?" Darwin asks.

"Sith lord," Charles says grimly.

“Which?”

“Emperor’s apprentice.”

Alex closes his eyes for a moment. "Okay, I think it's time to get out of here then."

Charles reaches out with the Force but recoils almost immediately. It feels...dark. Tainted with hate and anger and pain.

And getting closer.

Half a helicopter lands with a crash of rocks and debris in front of the little rocky outcrop they're taking shelter behind.

"Aw, shit," Alex mutters before scrambling away after Charles and Darwin.

"This doesn't make any sense," Charles mumbles to himself as they strap themselves into their ship. "Why is he here of all places? Surely this planet isn't so important to the emperor to warrant protection by his own apprentice?"

"We’d better hope he's here for something else," Darwin says. "Or we're screwed."

Alex frowns. "Wha—?" They follow Darwin's gaze to the scene outside, where clouds of metal and shattered pieces of skyscrapers are flying around madly around a single, black-cloaked figure.

"Force," Charles breathes. He knew the Force manifested itself in different ways in every Force-sensitive person, giving people unique ways of wielding it, but he had never seen so much raw power in one person before.

"Um," Darwin says. "Metal plane."

Right. Charles claps his hands together briskly. "I think it's time we took our leave. And let us hope he doesn't notice a little bit of metal making its escape."

Unfortunately, the Sith lord has more control than the wildly flying metal would suggest. This becomes apparent when the plane comes to a screeching halt before they've even gotten close to leaving the atmosphere.

Their plane is dragged backwards to land with an unceremonious crash.

"Open the door."

Alex and Darwin turn to Charles. "Open it. Stall him if possible. I'm going to try and find out what his intentions are."

Darwin presses a button, the door opens and Darth Magnetus walks in. His face is covered with a mask with only his eyes visible, with the rest of his body is equally covered. When he moves Charles can see the silvery glints of metal hidden in the folds of cloth.

He breathes out, feeling the Force shift around him as he tries to make his way through the barrier of howling emotion the Sith has built around his mind. There’s so much pain here, Charles thinks. So much anguish. It's impossible to get through without time, and time is a luxury Charles doesn't have. Dimly, he hears Darwin say "Me. I'm the telepath," and he knows he has to resurface.

Suddenly he's half toppled out of his chair with a memory of screeching, splintering agony in his head. He looks up into icy blue eyes.

"That one," the newcomer says, boredly examining her nails and nodding towards Charles shuddering in his chair. "He's the telepath."

Two Sith lords. And they had come for him?

Three stormtroopers file in and Alex and Darwin slowly raise their hands, sending worried looks at Charles. The two Sith are already turning to leave.

"Wait," Charles says and wonders of wonders they actually do. They look at him, one darkly impassive, the other coldly amused. "You’re not taking them."

"You’re hardly in a position to make demands, sugar," the woman sneers.

Charles takes a step forward, ignoring the stormtroopers raising their blaster rifles warningly and Alex’s hissed, "What’re you doing!"

"You’re not taking them," he repeats.

"No?" Darth Magnetus says.

"No," Charles says firmly, meeting his frankly terrifying gaze unflinchingly and they stare at each other while everyone except the other Sith shifts nervously.

"Very well," Darth Magnetus finally says. "Release them."

"What do you think you're doing?" the woman snaps. "Shaw said—"

The small cockpit practically darkens at the name. "Shaw said to bring him the telepath," Darth Magnetus says levelly, menace in every syllable. "He didn't say anything about his companions.”

The woman seems to decide that the fight isn't worth it. "I don't know why I'm even bothering. On your own head be it. I'm out." she stalks off before she finishes speaking.

Darth Magnetus growls under his breath.

Charles hands over his lightsaber to a stormtrooper and allows him to lock restraints onto his wrists. _Get back to base but take a detour. You know the drill. Do not mount a rescue mission. I sense the Force is changing and I mean to investigate. That's an order_ , he adds as soon as they think to protest.

May the Force be with you," Alex and Darwin think, for lack of anything better, fear and worry clouding their minds.

 _And with you._

The stormtroopers lead Charles away, but they stop just outside the plane. The Sith lords are nowhere to be found. Charles wonders if he should make his escape right now. But somehow he doesn't think Darth Magnetus would be quite so amiable again when he has to bring down the plane a second time.

As if thinking his name had called him over, the Sith lord approaches holding something. A Force suppression collar.

A Force suppression collar is a terrible thing to put on a Force-wielder; Charles has heard of them, but never seen one. The Force is everywhere and it affects all living beings, but the Force sensitive have a truly strong connection. To be suddenly cut off from it after having it accessible since birth is like losing the ability to see.

For a telepath, it's even worse.

He places it around Charles's neck without ceremony, ignoring his gasp and stumble when it's clicked shut.

Behind them, Alex and Darwin's plane takes off. Be safe, Charles thinks, and he wishes he could still speak to the Force to make it a prayer.

* * *

The Sith's star destroyer is a massive, unwieldy beast of metal. Charles wonders if Darth Magnetus understands it, can talk to it and listen to its replies.

How many people are on this ship? Charles wonders. Forgetting himself, he tries stretching his mind to find out.

And nothing.

Nothing.

It's a bit like a sighted man going to sleep and waking up the next morning with only darkness where there should be sunlight—only, a whole lot worse.

Charles cries out in terror, staggering into the wall. The stormtroopers drag him back into place, but he's shaking so hard he can barely stand.

"What’s wrong with him?" Charles hears Darth Magnetus ask.

"The collar," replies the other Sith. "For a telepath, the cutoff can be...jarring."

There's a pause where the soldiers on either side of him attempt to force Charles upright.

"What are you doing?" the woman says sharply.

The man might have answered, but Charles doesn't hear it because two cool fingers are placed on his cheek, just barely touching, but it’s enough, it's enough, and he can _see_ again, can skim the darkness in the man, the anger and hate like barbed wire, and just underneath, a helpless, wary, confused concern.

The world stops spinning and Charles recovers his bearings, panting harshly.

When he looks up again Darth Magnetus is pulling his black glove back on, glaring at the woman.

"Ah, so you _like_ this one, do you?" the woman says with obvious amusement.

Charles resists the urge to flinch.

The man looks at her witheringly and stalks off. "Maybe he'll be uncooperative," the woman calls after his stiff back. "I'm sure Shaw'll let you keep him afterwards if you're good."

Darth Magnetus whirls with a fury, hand on the hilt of his lightsaber.

"Just try it," the woman says coldly.

The two Sith face off, one with icy composure and the other not so much. The woman's cool demeanor cracks a little though, when the hallway's metal plating starts to writhe. A bolt pops out of the wall, and Charles can hear the distant groaning of metal, of the entire ship. The woman takes a step back.

"Calm your mind," she says sharply.

The ship stops creaking. Darth Magnetus walks away, and this time, she makes no comment. Mechanics hurry out into the hallway to stare helplessly at the pieces of what had been paneling.

She ignores them and Charles both, disappearing down another side hallway.

"Come," the stormtrooper on Charles's right commands, and they move on.

Charles turns his head to glance once more at the metal twisted beyond shape and shivers.

……

The cell they put him in isn't so much a cell as one of those good old fashioned torture chambers, the kind people only see in holovids. Except instead of knives and screws there's a single machine creatively named the agonizer that inflicts the same amount of pain and more, with a whole lot less messy fluids and chance of dying, unfortunately.

Charles drowns in pain and doesn’t bother trying to hold back his screams.

* * *

Charles thinks that perhaps he should be flattered that the emperor thinks he’s important enough to warrant a personal visit.

"Another telepath, hmm?" Shaw says, sounding unconcerned. His eyes though, are avid with interest. “I’ll make you an offer. Join me.” He laughs at Charles’s incredulous expression.

“I’ll never join you,” Charles manages before the agonizer’s turned back on.

“Just think about it,” Shaw calls out as he leaves.

The next time he’s able to stop screaming, Darth Magnetus is standing there studying him. Charles doesn’t like that look; he feels like a lab rat.

The Sith flicks his eyes over Charles, gaze strangely clinical as if he’s checking for damage.

“Why are you here?” Charles finally asks.

“It’s my ship,” the Sith answers. Which isn’t an answer, really. Charles can see the corner of his mouth quirk up for a moment under the cloth.

Charles is about to speak again when the Sith says, “Your Jedi got off the planet safely.”

 _Safely_. Of course, there’s a high chance he’s being lied to, but hearing it makes his spirits lift. “Thank you,” he says sincerely.

The Sith’s gaze is curious. “Why are you so courteous to the one holding you prisoner?”

“Why are you talking to me?” Charles shoots back.

Darth Magnetus seems to consider that for a moment. “I don’t know,” he answers finally.

Charles shrugs. “So your Force powers,” he says, casting about for another topic, “You control…metal?”

“Yes. I think it has more to do with magnetism though,” the Sith replies, seeming to, for some reason, give him an honest answer.

Charles can’t quite tamp down on the giddy feeling of scientific excitement, for all that it’s certainly not the time or place. “That’s marvelous,” he says and the Sith looks amused. “Is that why you’re called Magnetus?” and he receives a nod of confirmation.

“Tell me about your Jedi,” he says abruptly. “No, not their powers,” he says, waving a hand, when Charles hesitates. “What are they like?”

Charles is torn; he doesn’t know the man’s motives and this seems a more dangerous topic than the earlier ones. He looks up and catches a hint of what could only be described as wistfulness in the Sith’s eyes. He decides to take a chance.

“They’re…nice,” he says, hurriedly organizing his thoughts. “I found them, other Force-sensitive people. They were frightened and alone, afraid of their powers because they didn’t know how to control them. But now they’ve had practice and training. As well as each other for support.” He chances another look at the Sith’s face. He’s looking interested.

“I was delighted the first time I met another person who could use the Force,” Charles continues. “In the end, I think, it’s good not to be alone.”

Something unreadable flickers in the Sith’s eyes.

“What about you?” Charles asks, a tad awkwardly. “Do you have a family?” He winces internally as soon as he says it.

“No,” comes the curt response, and then a hesitation. “Lehnsherr. Erik Lehnsherr.”

Charles beams at him. “Charles Xavier.”

“Why do you stand against the empire?” Darth Magnetus— _Erik_ —asks with honest curiosity.

“He’s a bully and an oppressor,” Charles says instantly, even if that might not be the best answer under the circumstances.

“The empire puts the Force-sensitive above all though,” Erik says. “Isn’t that a good thing? So no one has to be alone and afraid of his powers like your Jedi were?”

“You sound like you are trying to convince yourself, my friend.”

“The emperor says that it is right and natural that the superior man rule over lesser men.”

“And you believe you are the better man?” Charles asks. “Is that why you support the emperor?”

"Support him?" Erik barks out a bitter laugh. The mirthless sound vanishes as quickly as it had come and Erik leans forward, deathly serious. "Let me tell you now, there is no man I hate more."

"Then why are you working for him?" Charles asks, frustrated, feeling something shifting in the Force as he does so. This is a Moment; one that if followed through to the end, has the potential to bring down an empire. This man, whom he had once thought of as a monster, is the key.

"It’s not that simple," Erik replies.

"Yes," Charles says firmly, "It is."

Erik meets his gaze and then looks away.

"Erik," Charles says quietly, and Erik looks back at him, unwilling but pulled as if by an invisible force. "You’re either with Shaw, or you're against him. On a matter so close to your heart, there can be no in between."

Erik grits his teeth and Charles can see his fear even despite the power dampener.

"Erik, you're not alone," Charles says. "No matter what you decide, you're not alone anymore."

Erik stands abruptly, hand flying out to turn the agonizer back on, eyes intent on the door.

"My dear apprentice," Shaw says, striding into the room.

Erik hesitates before he replies. "Master."

"Master Jedi," he nods politely at Charles.

Charles says nothing, because if he opens his mouth he'll probably start screaming and never stop. So much for trying to turn the emperor’s apprentice.

"So," Shaw says, clapping his hands together, "have you considered my offer? Will you be joining me?"

Charles lifts his head, slowly because the bastard hadn’t turned the agonizer off, and says, “ _Never_.”

Shaw snorts. “Pity.” He moves to leave. “Ah well, can’t convince them all. I’ll find another use for you later.”

Charles tries to meet Erik’s gaze, but the Sith refuses to look at him.

Erik has a change of heart sometime during the day—or night, Charles isn’t really sure of the passage of time. This is made apparent when one of the walls of the cell Charles is held in simply peels backwards like a banana would be peeled. The agonizer is turned off with a flick of a black gloved hand.

“Erik?” Charles coughs blearily.

“Come on, Charles,” Erik says, “We’re leaving.”

…

“Shouldn’t we, ah, try to be more subtle?” Charles asks as he hurries after Erik’s lean form, currently ripping a hole in another metal wall.

“The emperor’s too far by now to get back in time to stop us,” Erik replies casually flattening about a dozen stormtroopers with some doors. “And he’s the kind of man you’re either with or against. It won’t matter to him whether we politely sneak out or break this star destroyer in the process.”

Charles stops protesting. It’s not like the empire losing one of its most destructive weapons is such a terrible thing, after all. There’s just one more thing.

“What about all the people here?” Charles asks. The ship is tilting alarmingly by now, metal creaking and groaning around their feet.

“They don’t matter,” comes the curt reply, and Charles swallows back the horror at so many deaths, even if they are of soldiers of the empire, before Erik decides that Charles doesn’t matter either.

When they’re a safe distance away in Erik’s personal starship—leaving a star destroyer in pieces in their wake—Erik sets the controls on autopilot and turns to Charles. “We need to ditch this ship as soon as possible,” he says.

Charles agrees. “Where?”

“Any old spaceport will do,” Erik says, waving a hand dismissively. “It’s not like _acquiring_ a new ship will be a problem anyways.”

Charles hesitates; he doesn’t want to steal someone else’s ship. “We should head for my temple,” he tries.

“We still need a different ship,” Erik says firmly. “We can talk about safe places later.”

“Fine,” Charles says, word broken up by a yawn.

“Go get some sleep,” Erik tells him.

Charles wants to argue but he feels utterly spent. There’s one more thing on his mind though, but he isn’t sure how to broach the subject. The collar. He doesn’t know how much Erik trusts him, though admittedly it’s probably not very much. In any case, he’s found that very few people would willingly spend time around a telepath, for all that he’s promised he wouldn’t read their minds without permission.

But wearing it as long as he has has driven him to the end of his limits.

“Erik,” he says.

“Tomorrow,” Erik says, and Charles stops in surprise. “The collar right? I’ll take it off after I get some sleep.” He looks more closely at Charles’s haggard face. “Or I could take it off now if you want. It’s just that it might be dangerous when I’m tired.”

“Take it off now please,” Charles says in a rush, almost before Erik had finished speaking, and Erik agrees without further protest.

Erik sits in the pilot’s chair and gestures for Charles to take the co-pilot’s. He swivels the chairs so that they’re facing each other and places his hands a few inches from either side of Charles’s neck. After a couple of minutes that feels more like eternity, the collar drops onto Charles’s lap. He sighs softly as the Force begins to murmur to him once again.

“Thank you,” he says softly.

Erik looks at him. “I’m sorry I didn’t take it off sooner.”

Charles wonders if he’s now going to demand promises from Charles to stay out of his mind, but Erik is silent. When he glances back before heading to the sleeping quarters, Erik’s already turned his seat forward again, his dark form silhouetted against the bright light of the console and the stars wheeling around them in the infinite blackness of space.

No darkness haunts Charles’s dreams that night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a short time skip between the end of the last chapter and the start of this one, in case anyone is confused.

Charles watches as a bead of sweat trickles down Erik’s nose.

"I can't," Erik admits, arms dropping back to his sides. He glares at the immobile boulder in front of him as if its continued stillness causes him personal offense.

They’ve landed their newly acquired—and Charles has every intention to return it, truly—starship on an uninhabited planet rich with iron ore. Erik’s humoring him, giving Charles a demonstration of his power.

“You lifted all of those easily enough,” Charles says, gesturing to the rocks scattered around them. “And the star destroyer. You were practically shaking the entire ship.”

Erik looks frustrated. "Something that big, I need the situation, the anger."

"Erik," Charles says, because this is something he knows that Erik needs to change. "You cannot continue to use that to direct your ability."

"Why not?" Erik asks, tone sardonic, "Because it will lead to 'the Dark Side?'"

"No," Charles says seriously. "Because it will consume you, I assure you.”

 _And I don’t want that to happen._

Erik looks surprised, as if he had caught a tendril of meaning from the thought. “Sorry,” Charles apologizes, because he’s found that people have a tendency to be disturbed when he accidentally uses his powers—as if they’re afraid that he could lose control one day.

But Erik shrugs away the apology, as if the matter is inconsequential to him. “Why not?” he asks, in response to the thought Charles let escape earlier.

Charles takes a deep breath. “Because I think you're a person worth saving."

"You think every person is worth saving," Erik says, amused.

"Ah, but you, my friend, I have personal interest in."

And Charles thinks he might be going crazy, because Erik looks at him with what seems to be reluctant fondness.

* * *

The new starship is what could only be described as a hunk of junk. It’s nothing at all like the sleek ships Erik is used to flying, a fact which he continually comments on. Charles doesn’t really care about the state of the ship. At least it’s fast.

“If you dislike it so much,” Charles finally interjects, “why in the world did you pick this one? There were plenty of others in the docking bay.”

Erik is quiet, considering his answer. It’s a habit he has, not to just blurt out the thoughts that skim the outermost edges of his mind. “This one,” he says, patting the metal hull absently, “just _felt_ right. I don’t know how to explain it.” He trails off.

Charles nods, not because he understands, but because he’s fascinated at this new aspect of Erik’s Force-abilities.

“You don’t understand, do you?” Erik says, amused.

Charles just shrugs, chuckling. “I admit that I can’t quite grasp the idea that ships can have…feelings, did you say?”

“It’s not feelings exactly,” Erik corrects him. “It’s more of a sense of soundness and security. The metal feels stronger and sturdier. There’s a sense of confidence about it. That’s what you look for when picking a reliable ship.”

“You mean it’s what _you_ look for when you go starship-shopping,” Charles smiles. “Not all of us have the ability to talk to metal.”

Erik flashes him a quick grin and fiddles with the controls for awhile. Then he asks, cautiously, as if he thinks Charles might not want to talk about it, “And your power?”

“What about it?” Charles asks warily. For all that the Force has tossed their fates together, he still doesn’t know whether he can trust Erik, for all the cautiously shared laughter and the companionably silent drinks in the deepness of space.

“Are you afraid of your power?”

Afraid of his power? Charles doesn’t remember when he hasn’t had his power, when it hadn’t been as natural to him as breathing. He supposes that such a time must have existed, but if it had, it had been insignificant. He tells Erik so.

Erik lifts an eyebrow. “The way you react when you see that I had felt your mind reaching out made me think…”

“Ah,” Charles says, feeling embarrassed but not knowing why. “It’s more that other people are afraid of my power.”

Erik’s brow knits together slightly in consternation. “But what does that have to do with you?”

“I can’t go around hearing people’s thoughts if they’re uncomfortable with it,” Charles says.

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not right!”

“Charles,” Erik says, “There’s nothing wrong with using your power.”

“I do use my power,” Charles begins, but Erik waves a hand in dismissal.

“Yes, you do, _consciously_ ,” he says. “But the power is a part of us, we can’t simply control it. Yes, I use my anger to shape it when necessary, but that’s just for intentional use. At any other given time, my awareness is all around me, feeling the metal nearby.”

Charles frowns. “But _minds_ are not metal, Erik.”

“They are the touchstones of your power, as metal is to mine.”

“So you’re saying that I should release control, and just touch, all the time?”

Erik nods and Charles feels an overwhelming desire to give in, to allow himself that all the time, to step in and out of other people’s minds _as is his right_.

No.

“I won’t,” Charles says. Erik looks at him long and hard and seems to decide to concede the point for now. Charles has no doubt that this is something he won’t let go of.

They sit in silence for a long time afterwards, staring at the stars, lost in their own thoughts.

* * *

As much fun as this little adventure in space has been, what with the escaping from the star destroyer, the _borrowing_ of a starship, the visits to deserted planets, and the long philosophical discussions, Charles knows that it cannot continue. The empire must surely be looking for them still, and also knows that they cannot evade whoever the emperor’s sent after them forever, not with the resources their pursuers will have at their disposal.

“I’ve been thinking,” Charles begins.

Erik looks up from where he’s preparing their meal. Same fare as always: pre-made travel packages of food in what the labels claim are different flavors but all taste the same to Charles. “You do that too much,” Erik says, the quirk of his lips threatening to turn into a real smile, but he looks expectant.

“We need to find a safe place to hide,” Charles says, and watches as the almost-smile slides off Erik’s face.

“Got somewhere in mind, do you?” Erik asks in a tone that says he already knows the answer to his question.

Charles forges on, undeterred. “My temple. It has resources and people there.”

Sometimes he forgets that Erik is—was—a Sith lord, and that being such a servant of the Dark is not something someone can throw off lightly. The Force around them snarls as it darkens and Charles stops himself from taking a step back at the look on Erik’s face. He looks _Dark_ , in a way that he never has before.

“Erik,” Charles says sharply. “Calm your mind.”

When Erik—no, this is Darth Magnetus—turns to consider him, Charles feels the weight of the Dark side pushing insistently on his own mind.

“Calm. Your. Mind,” he says, digging in his mental heels and refusing to let the Dark in or move him back an inch. “Erik.”

At the sound of his name, Erik gives a violent shudder and the Dark fades slowly fades away.

“The Sith don’t like the Jedi much,” Erik says finally by way of apology.

"I understand that. What I don’t understand is why _you_ don’t want to come," Charles says, frustrated. "There’s good people there who'll want to help y—"

"Because I'm not a good person Charles!" Erik rounds on him furiously. He visibly checks himself.

Charles is unfazed by his sudden loss of temper. Temper he can deal with. "Erik?" Charles asks quietly.

Erik looks as miserable as Charles has ever seen him. "Just look. It'll be quicker,” he says. “Then decide whether you still want me at your temple."

Charles eyes him thoughtfully before putting two fingers to his head and closing his eyes. He slips into the memory Erik offers him.

 **…**

"Emma tells me there were two boys with the telepath," Shaw says, pacing in a slow circles around Erik. Erik doesn't move from where he's kneeling on the ground, head bowed. Inside, though, he's trembling with hate and fear and shame at his inability to _do_ anything other than tricks when Shaw orders him to.

"I followed your orders," Erik says stiffly, and braces himself when Shaw’s footsteps stop behind him.

"Two more Force users," Shaw muses, as if Erik hadn't spoken. The footsteps resume, but Erik doesn’t relax.

"Do you know what Emma told me?" Shaw asks conversationally. He touches Erik's shoulder lightly and sends him flying across the room into a wall. "She says that his mind was bright like fresh snow. I think I'm going to enjoy twisting this one. To take all that light, and streak it through with darkness..."

Erik struggles to his feet and Shaw casually knocks him to the floor again.

"You will 'escape' with the telepath. Contact me when you have the location of their temple," Shaw says, looking down at him.

Erik stares at him, a long buried spark of defiance flaring up. Something must have shown in his eyes, because Shaw smiles slowly.

There's a sudden crushing pressure on his windpipe. Erik's chest heaves as he struggles for breath but still he refuses to say anything. If anything, Shaw’s smile grows wider as he grinds his boot harder onto Erik's neck.

Finally, the edges of his vision turning black, Erik's deeper survival instincts kick in and he wonders just why he's protecting these Jedi, these people he's never met, these 'good people' who stood by and did nothing while his own people burned, his parents executed in front of his seven year old eyes because he couldn't do something so simple as to move a coin, because he failed them.

He looks away. "Yes, master," he croaks out with the last of his breath.

Shaw keeps his boot there a second longer than strictly necessary before the pressure's abruptly gone and Erik is lying alone in the chamber, shaking and gasping for breath, a familiar curl of shame in the pit of his stomach.

 **...**

Charles falls out of Erik's mind to find the man staring at him intently.

"I'm so sorry Erik," he gasps out and Erik's expression morphs to confusion. Charles doesn't think it's the right time for a conversation about Erik's past. But he does know one thing: he won't let Shaw hurt Erik again.

"We don't turn anyone away," Charles says finally. Erik huffs out a breath and relaxes, imperceptible except for the fact that he's leaning against Charles slightly.

"Good," he says, and it's decided.

* * *

“Have you thought about what I said?” Erik says out of the blue, wandering into the kitchen where Charles is sitting.

“You’re going to have to give me a little more than that, Erik.”

“About using your powers.”

“I have,” Charles says. And Charles has, despite years of determinedly _not_ thinking about it. He’s gone over all the angles of the issues and has wondered, more than once, what it would be like if he just let his tightly reined in power go.

“And?” Erik prompts him when Charles has been silent for too long.

“I don’t know,” he admits. Erik nods.

“Just try it,” he says after a moment. “There’s no one here but us, anyways.”

Against his better judgment, Charles relents.

He lets go.

And for the first time in for as long as he can remember, Charles _breathes_ , and he _sees_.

The Force seems brighter somehow, as if all that time he had been feeling it through tinted glass. Nearby is the familiar—and Force forbid there be a day that Charles finds darkness familiar, but it seems that today is that day—darkness that is Erik. But his mind isn’t _Dark_ , Charles finds as he explores the edges. It’s like light that’s tainted with darkness. Twisted together beyond separation.

But not beyond saving.

 _You have don’t need to deny yourself your power_ , Erik thinks at him, sensing Charles’s elation at being able to let his power go. _You could have this all the time._

“And your mind?” Charles wonders aloud.

“It’s yours,” Erik says sincerely, and there’s an intensity in not just his gaze but his entire being that should burn Charles but warms him instead. “For as long as you want it.”

* * *

"One thing more," Charles says reluctantly when they finally arrive at the temple. "It’d be best if you wore a power dampener until I speak with the rest of the team. As an, ah, sign of good faith."

Erik tries to hide his flinch and almost succeeds. The air of suspicion around the temple grows the longer Erik hesitates.

"Fine," he finally says, and Charles lets out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

 _It's alright_ , he thinks to the team. _He's agreed to wear a dampener._

 _Oh, there are so many things that are not alright with this,_ Raven shouts back.

But the door opens despite her admittedly valid complaints and Hank walks out with the dampener. Charles sees him and Erik size each other up and hurriedly intervenes.

"I'll take that Hank, thank you."

Hank nods and backs up a couple of paces but doesn't return to the temple as Charles had hoped he would.

Erik ducks his head and allows Charles to fasten it, inhaling sharply when it clicks shut. _I trust you_ , he thinks at Charles, and Charles can tell how much it costs him to admit it, how fragile he's made himself just by acknowledging it.

"Hank will take you to your room," Charles says, ignoring Hank's horrified thoughts at the order, hoping he wouldn’t protest aloud.

Hank just inclines his head, thankfully, murmuring, "Yes, Master."

Charles sends a wave of reassurance when Erik flinches involuntarily at the honorific.

"A word with you," Raven demands when he walks into the temple—home, finally.

The few people meandering nearby scatter.

"Are. You. Insane!" Raven hisses as soon as they're alone. "Do you even know who that is?"

"This is the welcome I get?" Charles asks wryly, "And I know very well who he is."

"I don't think you do," Raven mutters.

Despite her outrage, he suddenly finds himself with his arms around her as she weeps into his shoulder. "I was so worried," Raven mumbles into his shoulder. "When they said you'd been captured..."

"I'm back now," Charles reassures her, hugging her more tightly. He waits until he can’t hear the sniffling sounds she’s muffling in the cloth of his clothing before speaking again.

"Erik helped me."

Raven steps back from him, eyes narrowed. "Erik? So he's _Erik_ now, is he?"

Charles sighs. "It’s not what you think."

"Because he's an evil dark lord who could possibly murder us all in very painful ways in our sleep and you know that and you would never do something so irresponsible as to hook up with someone like that?" Raven asks sweetly.

"No," Charles says, looking at her in askance.

Raven just shrugs and hugs him again. “I’m glad you’re safe, Charles,” she says. “Just make sure you stay that way.”

“I’ll try,” Charles says and she releases him.

“‘Do or do not; there is no try,’“ she says and he stares at her.

“That’s surprisingly deep for someone who I remember sleeping through all her philosophy classes,” Charles tells her.

“It’s a quote, stupid,” Raven laughs and then swears as they hear a distant chiming. “I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Of course,” he says, and watches her dart through the Jedi walking the corridor.  He hesitantly lets his awareness wash over the entire temple, letting its comforting presence, the brightness of the Force around it—save in one room—fill his mind. It feels like home.

* * *

Having Erik at the temple is an experience to say the least. Charles has to tell the Council who Erik had been, of course, and sitting through that meeting hadn’t been fun. Introducing Erik to them the next day hadn’t been fun either.

The other Jedi haven’t been told, for general security’s and peace of mind’s sakes, but the temple is alive with rumors nonetheless. “We’re not usually this…gossipy,” Charles tries to tell Erik as they walk together. He hasn’t been spending as much time with Erik as he would like, caught up as he has been with meetings and paperwork and teaching duties. Sometimes he suspects that the Council is deliberately trying to keep him away from Erik. _Which is completely counter-productive_ , he thinks to himself crossly. And to avoid thinking about why else he thinks spending time in Erik’s company is a very good thing.

“It’s fine,” Erik assures him, eyes roaming restlessly around the peaceful garden. At least it’s quiet here—

There’s a sudden squeal as the children playing nearby catch sight of them and freeze in terror.

“Maybe you shouldn’t scowl so much,” Charles suggests.

“This is my normal expression, Charles,” Erik says grouchily.

“Don’t look so angry then,” Charles says in exasperation. “Smile.”

Erik grumbles something under his breath but grudgingly bares his teeth in the most terrifying rendition of a grin Charles has ever seen.

The children flee.

“Never mind,” Charles says, as they watch them run away. Erik’s scowl is firmly fixed on his face again. “Scowl all you want.”

 **…**

Raven and the rest of the team aren’t being cooperative either.

“Last time I saw him,” Alex says, “he had just dragged our ship back from _outer space_ and taken you prisoner.”

“We were only in the atmosphere,” Charles tries.

“Don’t you think it’s a little suspicious that he just decided to help you escape after capturing you in the first place?” Sean puts in, and they all nod in agreement.

“Erik has not given us a reason to distrust his intentions,” Charles says firmly, but he knows that his team will not be swayed. They have good instincts though, as their suspicions are entirely correct, as Erik himself revealed to Charles, but he thinks he’ll keep that to himself for the time being.

 **…**

All in all, Charles has had a very trying week. Erik’s relationship with the Jedi has not progressed much, especially since the Council are resolved to distrust him. Because of this Charles has to go through several psychology tests to make sure he is sound and has his judgment intact.

He returns to his room late one night—so late that he may as well call it morning—to try to catch some sleep before he has to get up and deal with yet another meeting and finds Erik waiting there for him.

Charles stops short, his sleep-deprived brain unable to process why Erik is sitting in his bed reading Charles’s favorite book. Actually, it would probably be difficult to process the situation whatever his mental state.

“You overwork yourself, Charles,” Erik says calmly, as if it’s perfectly normal for him to be in Charles’s room, in Charles’s bed. But Charles is too tired to deal with whatever it is going on and he just shrugs off his tunic and stumbles into sleepwear and collapses onto his bed. Erik doesn’t budge and for all intents and purposes appears to be reading again.

Charles wants to tell him to turn off the light but he can’t muster up the energy. He also wants to tell him to leave but can’t come up with a reason.

He must've nodded off at some point thinking about why Erik really shouldn’t be there and why Charles is strangely okay with it because the next time he opens his eyes, the chamber is dark and Erik is nowhere to be found. Charles himself is tucked under the covers. He runs his hand over the warm blanket covering him and smiles to himself as he falls back asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

"You have to understand how we feel," Councilman McCone says, staring hard at Charles. "We haven't revealed to the President who he is yet, but we cannot on good conscience continue giving a Sith lord shelter here without even letting the planet government know."

Charles sighs and rubs two fingers against his forehead; he can feel a headache coming on. "And you have to understand, Councilman," he says, "that _Erik_ is effectively a fugitive from the empire. We need time to sort out his status before letting anyone know."

"We appreciate that you've bothered telling us at least," interrupts another councilman, mind heavy with sarcasm.

"Of course," Charles says, as sincerely as he can muster up the energy to be, "And we appreciate, in turn, the use of the temple as a haven for the Jedi."

 **...**

A long shadow falls over him as he leaves the Council chambers, feeling more frustrated than he had going in. Every single meeting with the Council seems to end the same way—Erik. He understands their fear, he really does, but he also thinks that they could give him a little trust on this one, especially since his team of Jedi have managed to subdue the major threats that the planet's faced over the past year—who knew a quiet little planet like this one would attract so many insane people anyways?—as well as the charity work they've been doing.

"How was your meeting?" Erik asks.

"It could have gone better," Charles admits.

Erik barks out a laugh. "This is why I didn't want to come here, Charles." He's quiet for a moment, then adds, "You would think they would trust _you_ at least by now though."

"They're afraid," Charles says wearily. He doesn't want an argument right now, not when he's mentally exhausted after having argued pointless loops with people who just don't want to listen.

Erik smiles with too much teeth. "And they should be." But he relents, saying, "They'll come around. If anyone can convince them, it's you."

Charles thinks back to the fear and distrust in the room, even after a year of the agreement between government and Jedi, and has some doubt—not that he'll mention it to Erik. "Thanks for the vote of confidence," he says.

Erik puts a casual arm around his shoulders. "You convinced a Sith lord to give up the Dark," he says. "A couple of Force-less _politicians_ should give you no trouble at all."

And Charles should comment on that note of disdain, he really should, but he's too tired and distracted by the warm arm on his shoulders, and the answering curl of heat in his stomach to the warmth in Erik's voice.

* * *

"I've been thinking," Charles says to Erik one day in the library where Erik quite a bit of his time. "I think I'd like to open a school."

"You already have a school, Charles," came Erik's reply over the holobook he was reading. "Or have you not had enough of screaming children?"

"Yes well," Charles says, ignoring his second comment. "A school specifically for the Force-sensitive."

That piques Erik's interest at least, as his eyes do not immediately stray back to the text.

"There has to be more Force-sensitive children out there. I can only find so many, and having Shaw find them instead is not really the best choice for anyone, is it?"

Erik's gaze darkens slightly. "No, it's not," he agrees. He meets Charles's gaze squarely and Charles wonders if now, perhaps, is the right time to talk about what he saw in the memory Erik showed him.

He's trying to figure out the best way to approach the topic when Alex runs into the library. "Master," he says, because Charles hasn't managed to break them out of the habit, and then stops short when he sees Erik.

"What is it Alex?" Charles prompts. Alex shifts his attention back to Charles.

"Council says to tell you there's a riot in the city square," Alex says. "They're hoping you can go smooth things over."

Charles quickly gets to his feet, Erik following suit. "How bad is it?"

"Couple hundred, they said," Alex says, glancing at Erik. "Banshee and Darwin are ready and waiting."

"Right," Charles says briskly.

"I'm coming with you," Erik says.

"No," Charles says immediately. "It's too dangerous."

Erik glares at him but doesn't say anything else, though Charles can feel the thoughts swirling beneath the surface of his mind. He trails him all the way to the speeder where his two Jedi are waiting.

"Yeah he doesn't let me go out on missions either," Charles hears Raven tell Erik, who huffs out an irritated breath.

Underneath the annoyance and fear though, lies a single, clear thought that's more like a wish. _Be careful_.

 **…**

Alex hadn't been exaggerating, unfortunately. The police are trying to round the club wielding and picket sign waving mob up, or at least corralling them into less populated areas when they arrive. They're not having much luck.

Shattered glass and damaged vehicles lie on the streets. Alarms are blaring and some people are attempting to flee. The streets are crowded with people shouting and shoving and beating people who get to close.

Darwin parks the speeder into a side alley away from the commotion at Charles's silent command. "I'm going to try and get a sense of things," Charles says. "Stay here."

He waits for their nods before closing his eyes and diving into the fray. An avalanche of confused emotion immediately assaults his mind. _anger-fear-pain-hurt-hate-disgust—_

Charles falls back into his own head with a roaring headache. He hates riots.

Banshee and Darwin are staring at him expectantly. "It started out as a protest," Charles says. "And escalated from there."

He resignedly settles in to deal with the problem; the wildly fluctuating emotions and hundreds of minds involved means that it could take hours. Spreading his awareness, Charles searches for the emotional hotspot, the area where the leaders were congregated, where the violence was greatest and the passion the most intense. He's about to begin the long process of touching minds and soothing edges when someone pulls out a blaster and starts firing into the crowd.

The tension goes taut like wire yanked tight. Charles searches for the man with blaster. _What are you doing, Charles?_ comes Erik's curious voice out of the clamor.

 _Not now, Erik_ , he says, combing through the places where the _pain-fear-pain_ is most prominent, but it's difficult; there's just so many minds packed in a small area, emotions and thoughts overlapping and running into each other.

Erik continues as if he hadn't spoken. _Let me show you something,_ he offers and opens his mind wide and pulls Charles in. Charles flounders before Erik stills him. He gets an image of Erik kneeling in the freshly turned dirt of the garden, palms flat on the ground, concentrating hard.

He can still hear the screams of the rioters in the back of his head. _Erik…_

Someone falls to the ground, clutching uselessly at her leg a street away from where they are parked. Someone stops amid the half-crazed crowd and tries to drag her to the side of the road before she is trampled to death. Now the police are firing into the air, and their fear is bright against the shadows the tall buildings throw down; it won't be long before they turn their weapons on the people. Until suddenly, it's all gone.

It's quiet, and it's peaceful.

The sounds are still there, but muted. _What did you do, Erik?_ he asks, although he already knows. _But the dampener_ …

 _Is_ only _a dampener_ , Erik replies. Vaguely, Charles gets a sensation of the cool dirt on Erik's hands where they're buried in the earth.

It's quiet and it's peaceful in Erik's mind for once, and Charles knows exactly what to do. He sinks back into his own mind, keeping the connection open, and breathes in deep. And as he breathes in, he feels what Erik feels: the minerals in dirt, the ancient veins of copper deep within the mountains, the steel of the solid buildings, all waiting out the passage of time in their slow, slumbering existences.

Charles breathes out.

 _Stop._

And they do. As a whole, rioters and police alike stumble to halt wherever they are, minds cleared of the unstoppable emotions of the mob, blinking in bewildered silence at the sunlight and chirping of birds. The man with the blaster drops it almost in surprise and the clattering sound it makes jolts nearby police out of their daze to restrain him.

When Charles blinks back into his own mind, connection with Erik's mind reduced to a thread, he finds Banshee and Darwin staring at him in awe.

He finds he doesn't really like the feeling, but it's swamped by elation, by how _easy_ it had been to simply calm an entire mob down. Erik is like a satisfied hum in his mind.

* * *

When Charles had urged Erik to spend a day with the young Jedi, he hadn't expected them to return on time, but dirty and exhausted as if they'd been running instead of shopping and sightseeing.

"What happened?" Charles demands.

"It's Erik," Raven says. "They arrested him."

"What in the world for?"

Hank shifts awkwardly. "For, um, brawling, destruction of private property, attacking police officers, and um, use of powers without a permit," he ticks off on his fingers.

"Dammit Erik!" Charles mutters. This mess is going to take a while to sort through.

"You lot go to the infirmary," he orders. "I'll deal with you later."

They shuffle off but Raven stands there staring at him mulishly. "Just go," Charles says wearily. "I have to go get Erik out of prison and hope to the Force that they haven't discovered who he used to be."

Raven looks immediately contrite. There'd been a time, like that morning, when she'd have been happy to see Erik locked away, preferably forever with the key thrown away. At least some good had come out of today.

 **...**

"Master Jedi," the warden greets him.

"Warden," Charles inclines his head politely.

"Follow me," the man says.

He leads Charles into the jail, past the snoozing drunks in the single-day holding pens and young pickpockets, down a level to the thieves and con artists, down past the murderers and rapists, even down past the insane serial killers.

"Where is he exactly?" Charles asks, because the crimes Hank listed hadn't been terrible enough to warrant a cell this deep.

The warden looks at him. "Solitary confinement," he says shortly.

"Why—?" Charles begins.

"No idea," the warden cuts him off. "Orders are orders."

They get into the creaking elevator that takes them to solitary confinement. Charles shivers. The deeper they go, the more the dark side has taken root. He can feel its slimy curiosity attempting to worm it's way into his mind, drawing back with a hiss when it can't.

The elevator door opens with a clank.

The warden's communicator beeps. They both look at it and then the warden shrugs. "Cell 0002," he says. "Go straight, take a left and another left."

"Thank you," Charles replies. And the elevator starts to make its clanking way up again.

It's a wasteland of darkness down there. Solitary confinement isn't a cell to oneself as it is on other planets. On Ryalagra, it's an underground labyrinth, with cells sectioned off with barbed wire and electrical fencing. Most people go insane once they've been locked up for awhile there, if they hadn't already been insane to start with. Charles shivers again and tries to figure out how long Erik's been there.

The door to his cell is locked, and Charles doesn't have a key. "Erik?" he calls softly, hoping he's nearby.

When there's no sound, he closes his eyes and suggests to the frankly terrifyingly complicated lock that it wants to open. He's nowhere near powerful as, say, young Jean in telekinesis, but he's spoken to the Force for a long time. And the light side of the Force doesn't want the dark to have Erik any more than Charles does.

The lock groans open.

Charles starts walking, cautiously extending his mind in search of Erik.

It's proof of how the Dark has clouded his mind when Charles almost stumbles over him.

Erik is sitting with his back against the wall, arms wrapped around drawn up legs. The Dark is coiled around him, whispering in his ear and crawling through his mind.

He hadn't even looked up when Charles staggered.

"I won't let it have you, Erik," Charles says fiercely, and dives into his friend's mind to save it.

"Erik," he says calmly. "I'm here Erik. I promised you that you aren't alone."

He feels Erik's mind shifting in surprise at his presence, a gentle glow of hope that he's here, Erik's not alone in the dark anym—

 _Yes you are_ , the darkness hisses. _You've always been in our embrace. And you have embraced us as well._

"No," Charles says gently at Erik's confusion. "I'm here. Like I promised."

The Dark snarls—

He's on a bridge and Erik's dangling below, white-knuckled grip on a rope.

Charles reaches out a hand towards him. Erik looks down, then up at him, and stretches his own hand out. _Just a little bit further…_ But as their fingertips touch, the bridge collapses underneath his feet. They fall together into the darkness.

Erik is wandering a maze and Charles finds him. "Follow me," he says, tugging on Erik's arm, and Erik stumbles after him as Charles unerringly finds his way out.

Erik's trying to walk through a sandstorm and Charles finds him. "Take my hand," he says, and Erik grabs it and Charles leads him to shelter.

Erik is falling through the air, and Charles finds him. "Hold onto me," he says, and Erik hugs him tight, and Charles's parachute slows their descent enough so that they both land safely.

Erik is in the ocean, being dragged below, and Charles finds him. Charles dives; there is no hesitation. "Erik!" he gasps, dragging his head above the water. "I promised you. You are not alone."

Erik stops struggling in his arms and the dark shape of the submarine disappears unnoticed beneath them, forgotten like the wisps of a nightmare upon awakening.

Erik is six years old and he's helping his mother light the menorah. He's old enough to do it himself now, and he wants to do it perfectly. As the tips of each candle light up in brilliant, golden light, his mother reaches out to touch his cheek. Charles stands in the shadows, watching the scene. "Erik," he says softly, and the boy looks up, eyes light and innocent in a way he has never seen before, a way that makes his heart ache. Their eyes meet and Erik stumbles away from him.

"No!" he cries, but Charles stands fast.

Erik's breathing hard, breath coming in short, jagged pants. He looks at his mother, who's smiling at him lovingly, and back to Charles standing half-hidden in the shadowy corner. "Erik," Charles repeats. He holds out his hand.

Erik glances back at his mother once more and clenches his jaw, and then his eyes slide up to meet Charles's again and he walks slowly toward him. The little room begins to shake and Erik looks like he wants to run, but he can't seem to tear his eyes away from Charles's, and around them the dream is crumbling and the edges are rife with the Dark.

The menorah tips over onto the ground with a crash.

Charles grabs Erik and holds him close, and _leaps_ —

—And they rise up, and up, past darkness, past the opening clouds and into the warm sunlight, and then Charles is abruptly back in his own head.

 **…**

His face is wet when Charles regains enough of his senses to realize. He's never delved that deeply into anyone's mind before, never even tangled with a Darkness as dark as the one that held Erik fast.

Erik has tears running down his face too but he doesn't seem to notice. He grabs blindly and Charles realizes he's wearing a Force suppression collar. He shudders in empathy.

"Charles?" Erik asks. Charles feels a fury he hasn't felt in a long, long time rise in him at how lost Erik sounds.

"I'm here," he says, keeping his voice steady. He can sense that his presence reassures Erik.

"I can't see," Erik says fearfully.

Quickly pulling out his lightsaber, Charles turns it down to the lowest possible setting, one not even noticeable in the daylight and certainly not a danger to anything. Erik still winces at the very dull glow the blade now emits. His relief though, is obvious.

"I thought I was blind," Erik admits. "It was utterly dark when I opened my eyes, not even a single speck of light, and when I reached out for the Force, there was nothing."

He reaches out to touch Charles's hand. "I'm sorry," Erik says, and Charles thinks it's probably been a long time since he's apologized to anyone and meant it. "I never realized what it was like. The whole time I was down here, I thought, what would Charles do? I told myself, 'be like Charles and you'll get through this.'"

Charles can't find anything to say to that, to such faith from someone whose faith should have died when he was young. He can't even imagine what it had been like for Erik down there.

"Come on," Charles said. "I'm getting you out of here."

"They released me?" Erik asks doubtfully.

" _I'm_ releasing you," Charles says.

"I love me a good jailbreak," Erik says, but his tone is strained.

"I won't leave you down here. Can you stand?" Charles looks at him in concern.

"I can walk."

"Good."

Progress is slow with Erik constantly cringing at every oddly shaped shadow that the glow of the lightsaber throws up. They both freeze at a snuffling sound.

"Charles?"

"Shh."

The creature's mind is barely sane, or perhaps it's always been like this, if it had been born and raised down in the Dark.

Charles intensifies the beam of his lightsaber.

 _Force, but it's quick._

It dodges his lunge and disappears into the darkness. Charles revolves slowly, straining his eyes by the glow of his lightsaber and his Force-senses to locate it.

"Erik," he whispers, "Stay close."

Wham. It barrels into him and he staggers, but the threat of the blade has it backing off again before it can sink its teeth into him.

The Dark laughs at him when he tries to reach out and calm its mind. _Fool_ , it hisses. _Once we claim something, it is ours…forever._

"No," he says angrily, aloud, and ducks to the side when the creature attacks again, Force-pushing it against a wall.

Dazed, it tries to stagger up again. "Sleep," Charles quickly commands, and it gives a snuffling kind of snort before toppling over.

"Nice trick," Erik says, and Charles nods, catching a slip of thought from him as he does so— _is he going to kill it?_

"Come on," he says, stepping around the snoring body, not in the mood to explain how Jedi didn't just kill things.

They reach the clanking elevator without further incident.

 **…**

"Master Jedi!" someone shouts. Charles is rubbing soothing circles into Erik's shoulder with his thumb when he feels Erik tense before he realizes what he's doing.

 _It's alright_ , he thinks. _I recognize her_.

"Councilwo—" he starts to say when she's reached them, panting hard.

"No time for that," she says, cutting him off urgently. "The temple was attacked."

They follow her gaze upwards, where in the distance, a thin curl of smoke is rising into the night sky, visible only against the glow of flames.

As they sprint towards Councilwoman MacTaggert's speeder, Charles can hear the gentle laughter of the Dark, stalking him from the heart of the prison, echoing inside his head like a terrifying lullaby. _You can't save them all, Charles_ , it calls to him. _You can't save them from themselves…_


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think some people's comments have been deleted...there are comments that are in my inbox but don't show up on the page (or maybe that's just me?). Sorry if that happened to your's and I hope you received my replies; I have read and appreciate them all!

The temple’s destroyed when they arrive. The three of them file silently out of the speeder and survey the smoking ruins. Charles doesn’t look at either of them, just stares straight ahead and unfocuses his eyes, so that the glowing embers and flickering shadows might blur together and turn into a dream. They leave Erik in the car; he’d dozed off about halfway there, head tipping sideways towards Charles but not quite touching, so that his warm breath tickled his neck the rest of the way.

Besides, he doesn’t need Erik to see this, this broken place that had been, for better or worse, his home.

The air is eerily quiet as he and Councilwoman MacTaggart—Moira, as she’d insisted he call her immediately—take hesitant steps toward what had been the garden. Charles can hear the soft wails of the Force, the echoes of fighting and pain and fear. Here and there are splashes of darkness on cobblestoned walkways, the cracked walls. He dares not open his mind to search out survivors; even with his mind tightly locked down, he can see the muted loops of what had happened.

Where are Alex and Hank? Sean and Angel and Darwin? And where is—he tamps down on the terrifying questions before the one his heart is shaking over can overtake his mind.

“Where are the children?” he asks finally, unable to take the graveyard-silence anymore. He regrets it as soon as he speaks though, for his voice breaks the air like pebbles shattering the glassy surface of a lake where darkness lurks just underneath the stillness.

Moira doesn’t answer. She's staring wide-eyed at a particularly large stain on the carpet of the library.

Drip.

They glance up and Charles claps a mouth over Moira’s before she screams and one over his own before he loses the contents of his stomach. There’s a man pinned there and he’s very, very dead because he’s pinned eaglespread with knives through his hands and feet and a gaping hole in his stomach.

Drip.

Charles cautiously opens his mind to see if he could find out what had happened—and staggers backwards, clutching his head as images and feelings stream into them in an unstoppable wave. _Fear-backing away-those are Sith lords-why are they here-fear-pain-begging-_

 _“Please…the Jedi. You’re here for the Jedi-“ the Sith’s head snaps toward him-cold-dark-no-_

 _“I’ll t-tell you where-“ it’s coming-please-no_

 _“Please…just let us go-“ it doesn’t stop-pain-pain-pain-fear-stopstopstop-_

Charles heaves himself out of the imprint and nearly loses the fight with his stomach right there. He needs a moment to take it in, breath coming in rough gasps.

“Charles, are you alr—“ Moira asks him worriedly, but Charles waves her concern away.

“We need to find survivors,” he says numbly. Or bodies, he doesn’t add, and she stares at him as if she could hear the thought before nodding resolutely.

 **…**

They don’t find any more bodies, which Charles doesn’t know is a gift or a curse. They don’t find anything else either, just broken furniture, broken everything, and splatters everywhere. The Force is one tortured wail on his senses, and Darkness lurks in every room, every incongruous shadow.

In the end, it’s his team who find them. Or finds Erik to be precise.

When Charles and Moira trudge back to the speeder to retrieve Erik and find someplace to hide until they can figure out what to do—he dares not linger here and neither would anyone who had managed to escape—he finds the group of them watching the still-sleeping Erik from behind a large rock.

“—it him?” Raven—thank the Force—is saying to the rest of his team.

“I’m not saying—Master!” Sean’s voice turns to a shout. Erik startles awake at the sound and is immediately on guard, scanning his surroundings suspiciously until Charles risks opening his mind again to send him a bit of reassurance. Erik relaxes almost instantly, he finds with some surprise, doesn’t tense or recoil for even a moment at the touch of his mind.

His team breaks cover to run toward them. They’re so and inexperienced, Charles realizes suddenly with a start. They're such remarkable people that he often forgets just how young they really are, and for the first time he wonders if finding them and offering them a place at the temple had been the best thing for them. He’d thought so at the time, a year ago when he'd been naive, foolish with grand dreams. And now...and now he'd dragged them into this timeless, endless struggle of not merely good and evil, but Light and Dark themselves.

 _Charles_ , Erik sighs. _You’re being a little overdramatic_. He hasn't gotten out of the speeder and is eyeing both the Jedi and Moira suspiciously, but he's still mostly relaxed, which means that they're relatively safe for now. Charles trusts Erik's instincts better than his own.

Charles turns to look at the blackened walls of the temple. _They're just kids_ , he thinks sadly, hearing their laughter and chatter—subdued, yes, but there—behind him.

 _You can't protect them forever_ , Erik thinks, uncharacteristically gentle. _It’s a harsh world we live in, Charles. They have to grow up sometimes._

 _Believe me, I know that_ , Charles thinks sharply. _It’s just...the council was the one who leaked the location to the empire._ Moira had told him, a bleak look in her eyes.

For a split second, he regrets revealing that to Erik, who had such hatreds and disdain for “normal” people and the Council especially, but he needn't have worried.

 _Oh Charles_ , Erik breathes his name, aloud, in his mind, it doesn't matter, because suddenly Erik's tugging on the thin connection between their minds and giving him what could only be described as a mental hug. _You mustn’t blame them and you mustn’t blame yourself. It’s not their fault or your fault. Maybe it’s not even the Dark's fault or the empire's._

 _And Shaw?_ Charles has to ask, has to know. Erik’s silent for a moment, mind whirling with thoughts that Charles doesn't read, is not sure he wants to read.

 _Maybe not even him_ , he says finally. _Maybe it’s just...the world. It’s not anyone’s fault; it’s just the world we live in._ Erik isn't bitter for once. He’s just sad, Charles feels. Sad for the world, sad for Charles and himself and all the people living and dying in this broken, broken world.

 _You only want what's best for them_ , Erik murmurs. _You only ever want the best for everyone, and they know that._

And suddenly Charles can't take it anymore, he's weeping and the echoes of screaming in the Force die down to a dull whisper, and it's all in his mind, the tears aren't even real, because he can't let his team who is depending on him to hold himself together see him break apart.

 _Shh, Charles_ , Erik thinks soothingly. _It’s alright, Charles. It’s going to be alright._

 **...**

Charles listens to the Jedi's reports on what had happened while they head to a safe house that Charles had prepared, just in case, using his own assets instead of the Council's, when he'd started the temple.

They'd attacked while he had been searching for Erik. He recalls the meeting and long argument he'd had with the Council over Erik's imprisonment and feels a stirring of anger that melts away as quickly as it had come, leaving a dully hurting question. Had they been plotting to betray him even while they had smiled and gave him reassurances? It doesn’t matter now, he tells himself firmly, but the ache doesn't go away.

At least some of the other Force-users had escaped. They’re survivors, staying at the temple for want of anywhere better to go, but too old and wary to become true Jedi. Those that had escaped had gotten the children out—not that the empire was particularly interested in a bunch of un-sensitive children anyways.

The real blow comes when they tell him about Angel.

"The Dark side is very persuasive," Erik says, face impassive.

The Jedi, to Charles's surprise, don't argue. When he relaxes his mind, he can feel the confused shame that each is feeling. They had all been tempted as well.

Charles feels the by-now familiar sense of guilt wash over him. Angel had arrived at the temple the most recent. He should have paid more attention to her, helped her more, done more to keep her on the side of the light...

 _Enough, Charles_ , Erik thinks sharply. _She is allowed to make her own choices. We must respect that, no matter how much we may disagree._

 _And tone down on your guilt_ , he adds scathingly. _You have to pull yourself together, Charles; we need you._

Charles blinks and glances over at Erik, who stares challenging back at him.

He swallows and forces himself to think. "And the others? The ones who didn't escape?" he asks.

"They were brought to a shuttle," Raven tells him.

"And from the shuttle to a prison ship most likely?" Charles asks. Erik nods shortly.

Despite the bleakness of their situation, Charles feels slightly relieved. Captured, not killed. The thought spins giddily around his head, plans of rescue already forming.

Erik places a steadying hand on his shoulder. “We have to get off-planet immediately,” he says.

“Wouldn’t it be better to wait? They’ll be looking for us and if we just keep our heads down for awhile, hide out in the safe house, won’t it be easier for us to sneak out?” Darwin asks.

Erik is already shaking his head. “No. We need to leave, and we need to leave now. You’re right that they’re looking for us, but when the empire looks for something, it doesn’t do a half-assed job of it. They’d have put up a blockade by now and are probably combing the planet as we speak. Starting with the city near the temple.”

“But—” Darwin tries, but it seems Erik has had enough of explaining himself.

“We don’t have time for this,” he snaps. “Our chances of running the blockade and getting off the planet are equal whether we try now or later. But the longer we try to hide, the greater the chance that they’ll find us on the ground.”

Alex looks mutinous. “It’s your fault that they’re here in the first place,” he starts angrily, but Darwin puts a hand on his clenched fist.

“No, he’s right,” Darwin murmurs and Alex reluctantly subsides. Charles nods at Darwin gratefully and makes a mental note to have a chat with Alex, with all the Jedi, later.

He senses hesitation from Erik, a _Maybe if_ , along with a heady sense of guilt that’s quickly locked away, and Charles thinks a furious _No_ at him. Erik blinks in surprise but thankfully turns his thoughts to focus on their situation once again. Good. Charles isn’t going to lose anything more than he has lost already. 

* * *

We need a ship,” Erik says when they’re sitting around a small table at the safe house. He’d grudgingly conceded to the Jedi’s demand for rest and had given up his protests at staying anywhere even for a little while.

“How about the one we flew here in?” Charles suggests. “It’s probably still where we left it.”

Charles feels the exact moment Erik tries to reach out and see for himself. He’s reached out before he knows what he’s doing, steadying Erik’s mental floundering. _It’s alright_ , he thinks to him, even though it really isn’t.

When he settles back into his own mind, he finds everyone staring at Erik, who has his eyes squeezed shut and teeth clenched. He puts a hand on Erik’s shoulder and he opens his eyes to look at Charles. _We’ll get it off soon_ , he thinks. “You’re alright,” Charles says aloud and Erik nods, visibly pulling himself together.

Moira meets his eyes over the table with a worried look. He smiles reassuringly back at her even though he could really do with some reassurance himself at the moment. Moira seems to sense that he needs some time to think and calm himself though, because she stands and asks if anyone wanted some food. Being as most of their group comprises of teenage boys, the table is quickly abandoned in favor of the kitchen. Charles follows them and accepts a flatcake and a mug of caf from Moira. He sits down and lets the sound of the Jedis’ chatter wash over him.

“So…” Raven slides into the seat next to him and gives him a blinding smile. Charles smiles back warily. “What’s up with you and Erik?”

Charles groans to himself. Not this again. “I don’t really think this is the time—” he begins, but she interrupts him.

“ _Now_ is always the time,” she says and suddenly she looks sad. They all freeze at the sound of a police siren in the distance. “Because there might not be a later.”

Charles puts an arm around her and she leans against him. Suddenly she shakes herself and stands up. Giving him a gentle shove, she says, “Now, you’re moping and he’s moping—” she nods towards Erik where he’s still sitting at the meeting table “—so take the advice of your much less socially embarrassing sister and go talk to him.”

“How am I socially embarrassing?” Charles asks, pretending to be offended.

Raven laughs and shoves him toward Erik again. “You’re my nerdy brother who somehow managed to bring a legend that existed only in those dusty old holobooks that you always had your nose buried in into life. I’m practically obligated to say you’re socially embarrassing. Now go talk to him.”

Erik looks up when Charles drops ungracefully into the seat next to him, although the reaction could possibly have been more caused by the smell of the caf Charles had placed in front of him than Charles himself. He doesn’t say anything, just nods his thanks and wraps slightly unsteady hands around the hot mug and raises it to his lips. He looks rather miserable, Charles notes.

“How are you holding up?” Charles asks, after watching Erik drink the entire cup.

“Tired,” Erik admits. His right hand strays toward his throat and hovers near the collar, not quite touching.

“I know,” Charles says. True, most of the time of his experience with the Force-suppressor collars, he’d been screaming or unconscious, but between the time of their escape and Erik removing it for him, he remembers a sort of extra drag on his limbs, as if the very air was conspiring against him moving. It’d been easy to overexert himself then, easy to forget that he no longer had the Force to feed him strength. “You could take a nap,” he suggests.

“Can’t,” Erik replies. His mind feels restless, uneasy. Charles stops himself from reaching out to sooth the ruffled edges; they need Erik to be alert tonight, no matter how miserable he is or how miserable it makes Charles to see him like this. One of the corners of Erik’s mouth twitches up a bit, probably catching a corner of Charles’s thoughts. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this.”

“How bad?” Charles asks.

“There’s-a-Sith-patrol-right-outside-the-door-bad,” Erik says, hand already on the hilt of his lightsaber. As if on cue, there’s a sharp rapping on the door.

Charles quickly stands. _I’ll handle this_. He looks hard at Erik, who’s halfway out of his seat, mind whispering of blood. _Erik_. The rapping comes louder. Erik eyes him and reluctantly sits down. Charles pats his shoulder and beckons to Moira.

 _Act normally,_ he thinks to her. She nods, her face a mask of confidence while her mind screams with fear.

Moira opens the door a crack as the stormtrooper is about to knock again. She yawns and rubs her eyes. “Is there a problem?”

“We are looking for fugitives of the empire,” the stormtrooper says curtly. “Why did it take you so long to open the door?”

“I was taking a nap upstairs,” Moira replies. “I’ve had a long day.” Luckily her clothes are rumpled enough from their earlier investigation of the temple for it to be a passable explanation.

The stormtrooper nods, seeming to accept it. “Mind if we take a look inside?” he says, making it sound like a command.

“Of course,” Moira opens the door and Charles wishes he could spare a moment to calm her rising panic, but he has his hands full convincing an six stormtroopers that there’s nothing to see in this house, that it’s just like all the hundreds of other houses they’ve searched, and that they would really like to return to base for some well-deserved rest.

The stormtrooper peers around the sparse rooms and glances over the attic upstairs. “Thank you for your time, ma’am,” he says to Moira before ordering his patrols to move out. Charles waits until they’ve moved on to the next house before relaxing.

Erik is staring at him in frank admiration and pats his knee in congratulations.

“That should keep us in the clear for a while,” Charles says with satisfaction. It’d been easier to do the mind trick than he’d thought it would be. Maybe because he’s been opening his mind more since he’s met Erik.

“Only for a little while,” Erik says, mind turning back to escape. “Can you shield us?” he asks Charles.

“To an extent,” Charles replies. “Depending on how loud we are, how many people we need to be shielded from, how dark it is, that sort of thing.”

Erik nods. “We should make for the ship now, while the house has just been checked by a patrol. I’m betting it hasn’t been discovered yet.”

“Why not?” Raven asks.

“It’s in the mountains. They won’t have searched their yet,” Erik says, obviously not used to having his orders questioned. Charles mentally prods him to elaborate further. “If we assume they’re searching for me, they’ll assume I’ll stay close to the city. More metal,” he explains.

“If the Council has betrayed us, they might have told them about the Force-suppressor,” Charles points out.

“I doubt the Sith gave them a chance to mention it. We’re terribly arrogant,” he adds. “Not to mention terrifying. More than once have we failed to complete a mission because we didn’t bother to question informants thoroughly enough.”

“Yes, alright,” Charles says, breaking into Erik’s musings of his past. It puts him ill at ease hearing Erik speak so casually of missions that had probably been the causes of the atrocities of the empire that fill the underground. Not to mention his use of “we” about the Sith. “Let’s go.”

It takes a grueling hour of near-misses, the odd sleeping person stuffed into a random alley, and ten minutes of Erik bending a gate for them to pass while two patrols stood right outside the alley and another ten for him to bend it back. The effort had nearly rendered him unconscious and Hank and Darwin had had to support him the rest of the way. And that had been merely getting out of the city.

Then there’d been the two hour hike that was often more like climbing until they reached the cave. They help Erik into a chair—he’d been able to walk the last hour, thank the Force—and Hank joins Charles in the cockpit. “I think,” Hank observes, breathing hard. “We have a lot of training to do before we’re ready to take on the empire.”

Charles nods. “You all did a good job,” he says. “But yes. There’s definitely room for improvement.”

“And now comes the hard part,” Hank murmurs. 

* * *

After Erik recuperates from the strain of using the Force while technically being cut off from it—the way his mind had thought of it had been akin to running a marathon breathing through a straw, which Charles doesn’t even think is physically possible—he’s so tense and irritable in the confined space that Charles finally suggests he go take a turn in the pilot’s seat.

It turns out Erik is a terrible pilot when he can’t access his powers.

“He’s not allowed to pilot ever again,” Sean says, slightly green. Charles has to agree—at least until they get the collar off though. Erik’s the best pilot Charles has ever met when he can use his powers, and he has a feeling they’ll need his skill if they meet the empire’s TIE fighters. And there are so many patrolling the galaxy that it’s almost impossible that they won’t.

Raven points at the cockpit, where Erik is somehow managing to make them all spacesick while flying in a relatively straight line. “Get him out of there. Hank’s the pilot from now on.”

Charles lures Erik from the pilot’s seat with hot caf, food, and the promise that the Jedi would be in the starboard quarters playing Pazaak. They sit in the kitchen for awhile, enjoying the silence and each other’s company. Charles notices Erik’s fingers straying absently toward his neck every so often while he drinks with his eyes shut. He feels a rush of self-reproach; removing the collar should have been the first thing he had done when he’d felt rested enough to try his idea.

The next time Erik’s hand goes up to hover near the collar, Charles grabs it. Erik opens his eyes in surprise.

“I have an idea,” Charles says, looking at the collar in distaste.

Erik lifts an eyebrow. “I’m listening.”

Charles had thought about the problem of removing the collar in his spare moments. Usually, they would need a key, but as Erik had demonstrated, it’s also possible using his powers as long as one was careful. It had occurred to him after he’d seen Erik bend the gate. Erik obviously still had _some_ connection to the Force, and a little trickle of power is all he needs, really, to unlock the collar. In order to access that trickle required too much effort and concentration on his part though, to allow him to do the careful application he needed when unlocking the mechanisms within the collar. If, however, there was another to unlock while he accessed the Force, it would potentially be possible.

Erik considers the idea thoughtfully when Charles explains it to him. Charles knows his answer as soon as Erik decides that it has merit even though he continues to mull over the risks; Erik is desperate to be rid of the collar.

Charles smiles slightly when Erik agrees. “Wait,” Erik says, as he prepares to enter Erik’s mind. _Can I trust you?_ the thought slips out, and it feels somehow like a plea.

Charles takes one of Erik’s hands and brings it to his lips. _Yes,_ he thinks, and into that little word, he pours what Erik means to him, images and feelings, and misgivings, yes, doubts and fears, but also hopes and maybe-one-days, and the trust he gives to Erik. _Always._

Erik nods. “Time to get the blasted thing off then,” he says, but his mind is bright with happiness.

 **…**

Erik’s power is utterly different from his own, Charles realizes. Where he works with already painted canvasses, every time Erik wields his power, it’s on a blank piece of paper. Of course, with enough effort, Charles could change any mind into anything he wants. Minds already know what they are. Metal, though, metal is eager to be changed. He finds his control is better when he melds with Erik’s subconscious a little. _You can control metal down to its molecules?_ Charles thinks in wonder.

Erik gives a little mental shrug. _I’ve never really thought about it that way,_ he replies. _I know you’re excited, Charles, but could you hurry up please? I don’t think I can hold this longer than I held the gate._

 _Right, sorry_ , Charles thinks, abashed.

 _I promise we’ll do this again someday, if you like_.

 _I would like it very much_. Erik can probably feel the delight he feels at the offer, but Charles doesn’t really care. They had to get the collar off first, anyways. He forces himself to concentrate. There’s a lot of little pieces of metal in the collar and Erik guides him through it as he describes the metal of the collar, occasionally taking a quick look in Charles’s mind to see particularly difficult locks for himself. It’s certainly a strange experience, Charles thinks distantly, to be in Erik’s mind using Erik’s power while Erik looks into _Charles_ ’s mind to give advice.

They both start at the _click_ of the collar when it unlocks. Erik goes to yank it off his neck but Charles takes his hand. _May I?_

 _Of course_ , comes the quick response.

Charles carefully wraps Erik’s power around the collar and floats it off his neck to land in Charles’s hand. He backs out of Erik’s mind.

"You know we could have had Hank take it off," Charles says, a little breathlessly.

Erik grins at him. "But he's not the one I trust." His mind feels right again, full and whole and powerful.

Someday Charles will talk to him about his trust issues and his grudge against the world—understandable as they are. Someday he'll get Erik to see that there's more to life than revenge. More to Erik than being a weapon wielded by the Dark. “ _I promise we’ll do this again someday, if you like.”_ Someday...the word whispers like a promise between them.

But not today. Today he's just going to enjoy the new brightness of Erik's smile and the warmth and affection of his mind.


	5. Chapter 5

They’ve been traveling for a little over half a day when they’re intercepted by a patrol of the empire’s TIE-fighters. Erik alerts them about a minute before the ship’s radar picks it up. He’s sprinting toward the cockpit almost as before he’s finished speaking.

“Out of the chair,” Charles hears him order when he hurriedly follows. Hank looks relieved to see him.

“Master—” he begins and Erik clenches his teeth in frustration.

“There,” he says, jabbing a finger at the oncoming ships blinking on the radar. “There they are. Now get out of the chair.”

Charles nods at Hank, who leaps out as if it’s on fire. Erik immediately takes the seat and has their ship in evasive maneuvers before his hands even touch the controls. _There’s no need to be so harsh on him_ , Charles reprimands him. Erik spares a moment of attention to snort.

 _You should stand up to him_ , he adds to Hank, who seems terrified at the prospect. _Just a little, mind. Actually you outrank him. Technically._

 _Only by_ our _chain of command_ , Hank thinks. _Who knows what kind of hierarchy he’s placed us in?_ Charles can tell that Hank thinks he already knows though. They’ll have to address that later. Best to deal with the enemy ships first. Hank’s a better pilot than Charles, but he doesn’t think that Erik would appreciate flying with someone he’s never piloted with before at the moment, so he orders Hank to put Darwin and Alex on the starboard and port laser cannons, respectively, and rejoins Erik in the cockpit.

Erik grins at him with too many teeth; his mind is overcome with battle frenzy. Not the feral kind of course, but the kind that’s cold fury and calculations, the kind that all the best generals have. Right now, he’s using it to lethal effect, expertly handling their starship while also unleashing his powers at the TIE-fighters. But not to greatest effect.

“Take the controls,” he says as soon as Charles slides into the co-pilot seat. Charles bites his lip and nods.

The ship’s not difficult to pilot and Charles has done his fair share of piloting when it had been just him and Erik traveling together. He grips the controls tightly when the ship shakes from a glancing hit, though probably not as much as it would have if Erik hadn’t been steadying it. The TIE-fighters whiz around them, followed by bright beams of lasers. One of them explodes on the right hand corner of the viewing screen and he can feel Alex’s delighted whoop in his mind.

He’s doing a tolerable job of dodging blasts and giving Alex and Darwin good chances to shoot when it occurs to him that they’re still not using their abilities the best way. He taps Erik’s mind gently and feels Erik’s concentration falter for a moment. Erik knows what he’s thinking in a second though and opens his mind and invites Charles in.

And this. This is perfect. Their minds fit together like a latch clicking into place and Charles thinks blearily that it all feels so cliché, so otherworldly to find someone whose mind felt _right_ the way Erik’s did. They fly and destroy the TIE-fighters with elegant precision, as one. Their power reaches out and out and calls to the metal of the starships careening all around them and they obey, flowing and molding to their thoughts. And it’s amazing and it’s glorious, and there is no Dark anymore and there is no Light, just the Force in tandem all around them, within them.

“Charles!” Raven appears.

They manage to turn only Charles’s head at her call, untangling their minds with difficulty. Raven looks from Erik to Charles, an edge of suspicion in her mind so faint that she probably doesn’t even notice it. “We got them all,” she reports.

“Good,” Charles says, mind still buzzing from what he had just accomplished—shared—with Erik. “Though we’d better get out of here fast. They’ve probably already reported our position.”

Charles can feel the Jedi congregating in the kitchen, congratulating Alex and Darwin on their shooting, Moira watching them with a fond smile, and barely registers the _intent_ in Erik’s mind as the door swishes shut behind Raven, and Erik’s mouth is suddenly on his. “Mmph,” he says, startled, before he gathers his wits and kisses him back, hard.

The universe narrows down to the awkward twist of their bodies, the feel of Erik’s lips and the taste of him and oh, is that his tongue?—Charles opens his mouth obligingly—and the brush of Erik’s mind on his, and it’s just one long chant of _CharlesCharlesCharlesCharles_ , on and on and on, until Charles feels the peculiar sense of their brains going cross-eyed with lack of oxygen and pulls away, feeling Erik chase after him. He draws in a long shuddering breath and hears Erik doing the same. When he looks up, Erik’s staring at him, not with the lustful hunger one would expect from an ex-Sith lord but a, dare he say, tender look that should look out of place on a face whose smile terrified small children, and Charles on occasion, but only settles the burning feeling in his gut into warm contentment.

 _Your thoughts are babbling_ , Erik thinks with a touch of amusement, but also discomfort, and Charles realizes with horror that he’s projecting so hard that Erik’s wincing slightly at the pressure on his mind.

“Charles,” Erik say and Charles wants to kiss him again at his tone, and he would, except that he can feel Raven approaching again.

The door slides open with a swish. “Hey, you guys—” she breaks off to eye them with more than a touch of suspicion this time “—want a drink?”

“Yes, that would be fine,” Charles says, feeling Erik sigh with annoyance at the interruption.

“Great!” Raven says cheerily. “Hank says he can take over, if you want,” addressing Erik for the last part.

Erik glances at Charles and shrugs, resignation and the promise of later heavy on his thoughts. “Sure. I can use a drink.”

 **…**

Once they’re all gathered in the kitchen, minus Hank, Charles thinks they might as well hold a meeting. Erik agrees with him absentmindedly, half of his mind concentrating on sweeping the ship for damage and fixing what he could and the other half replaying the wet slide of their lips and tongues in an endless loop. Charles flushes and quickly reduces the connection. He thinks he sees Raven smirking at him knowingly.

“So where are we going anyways?” Sean asks.

“Well, as you all know, we need to train before we stand a chance of staging a rescue,” Charles says. “It’s probably not a good idea to wait too long though, or they won’t be wanting a rescue.”

The Jedi shudder at the implication, darkness briefly on their minds. Erik is still unconcerned though, carefully patching up some metal plating on the hull. Charles waits pointedly for his attention before continuing. “Still, at the moment, we are woefully unprepared to meet the empire’s forces either in clandestine activity or all-out battle. Up until now, our operation and interventions have been small, but we also have not spent as much time as I’d have liked battle training. So, we are headed toward my family home.”

Raven takes a sharp breath, though Charles can tell the idea of it being their destination had occurred to her. “Home? Are you sure, Charles?”

“It’s the best place for training,” Charles says firmly. “We won’t be bothered there.”

“How do you know for sure?” Moira asks.

“The Xavier family owns the planet,” Raven says before he can answer.

“You own a planet,” Alex says in disbelief into the ensuing silence.

“It’s really only half a planet,” Charles says, feeling embarrassed and not knowing why. It’s not _his_ fault he owns a planet—half a planet. One of Erik’s eyebrows quirk upwards.

“It’s probably not even the miserable half, is it?” he asks. “What’s it called?”

“Westchester,” Charles replies.

Sean makes a face. “What a weird name.”

Charles shrugs. His father had named it. “It’s on the Outer Rim and it’s completely uninhabited, except for when my family lived there and whatever servants we kept. _The point is_ ,” he says, trying to reel the conversation back to a useful point, “The point is that it’s the perfect place to train.”

Erik’s frowning thoughtfully. “I’ve certainly never heard of it. It could hardly be any worse than any other place we could hide out in. How long until we arrive?”

“Should probably take about another day,” Charles says. “As long as we don’t run into any problems. We should take the time to discuss how we’re going to use the training time to best effect, as we’re on a tight schedule.”

There’s a flurry of nods. “As you all know, to be able to fight efficiently, you need to have the necessary skill with the lightsaber and proper knowledge of the Force. As the most experienced, Erik and I will be honing your abilities.”

 _What?_ Erik gapes at him, as similar thoughts of surprise and dismay resound from the Jedi. _You want me to teach them?_

“Erik is a better swordsman than I, so it makes sense for him to be the one to train you,” Charles says. He pauses. _You_ are _a better swordsman, right?_

Erik crosses his arms. _Probably_ , he admits grudgingly.

“I will be training you in using the Force, teaching you how to control your powers, which I know that you all need to work on,” Charles continues. “And I expect you to continue with your meditation exercises, of course.”

 _They don’t even like me_ , Erik thinks petulantly.

 _That’s because you frighten them_ , Charles points out reasonably. Erik sighs.

“You _need_ to learn how to control your powers,” Charles says. “I thought we had time, before. But now, there are people who need our help, and we’re not ready. I expect a lot from you, I know. But I have no doubt that you’re able to do what needs to be done.” And it’s true. They may be young, but they’re not untested, not completely anyway. They all have field experience, though Charles suspects there’s still a lot Erik can teach them.  More than Charles can teach them anyways, as his experience is little better than their’s.

But he can’t teach them anything if they don’t respect him. Something had happened, Charles knows, between Erik and the Jedi before Erik had been arrested. He hasn’t gotten the story out of anyone yet, but a bond that hadn’t been there had been formed between them. It’s not a strong bond, but it’s there and it’s better than nothing. Still, it’s high time for Charles to sit down with them and have a long discussion on his adopting a Sith lord, as Raven had once put it.

 _Can you go take over for Hank, Erik?_ Charles asks, trying not to feel guilty about sending Erik away. After all, Erik himself had suggested that he have this discussion with them. _I need to talk to the Jedi_.

Erik just nods, probably already having gotten the gist of Charles’s thoughts. Charles really needed to separate their minds. Or at least build better shields.

 _Now why would you want to do that?_ Erik asks and grins at Charles’s exasperated response of privacy and ethics.

 _It’s only wrong if I don’t give consent, Charles. And I told you: you never need to be anything less than who you are._

Charles sighs and gives up arguing. Erik’s as stubborn as he is when it comes to his beliefs. He doesn’t separate their minds though, and there’s a hint of smugness in Erik’s eyes that says he thinks that he’s won.

“Good work on the cannons today,” Erik says cheerily in Alex and Darwin’s general direction as he heads toward the cockpit.

The door slides shut on their surprised faces. Charles grins.

 _You weren’t mindfucking him just now, were you?_ Raven thinks at him with a hint of horror. Charles chokes on his spit. _Because you two were staring into each other’s eyes and he was looking so smug when he left. You’d better not have been, Charles. Tell me you weren’t!_

 _I wasn’t!_ Charles thinks forcefully at her and is saved from explaining by Hank’s arrival. He can feel Erik’s soft chuckle in his head. _And concentrate on flying, you_ , he chides him.

Now that his Jedi are assembled, Moira leaning on the counter, Charles finds himself at a loss for how to begin. He should have had this discussion as soon as he’d arrived back at the temple. It’s just that there’d just been so much to do then that he’d kept putting it off. Always thinking he’d have more time.

 _It’s fine, Charles. It’s easier to just start rather than thinking about what you should have done._

“I’m sorry,” Charles says when everyone is seated and watching him expectantly; it seems important to start with an apology.

Raven tilts her head curiously. “What for?”

“I should have had a talk to you about Erik as soon as I got back to the temple,” Charles says. The mood doesn’t dim quite as much as he had expected on hearing Erik’s name. “I know your feelings on the subject, and I understand how you feel.”

Raven straightens out of her slouch and asks, the others apparently willing to let her be their spokesperson, “And how do we feel?”

Charles is a little thrown by the question. “Well, you distrust him and think he’s dangerous, obviously.”

“And?”

“And?” Charles repeats. “Is there anything more? You have hardly spent a lot of time with him.” Once again, he wonders what had happened on Erik’s trip to the city with the Jedi.

“He’s not _all_ bad,” Raven mutters. Charles raises an eyebrow at her and she looks annoyed. “I mean, he’s not as evil as we thought he was.” _And you seem to like him_ , she adds mentally. _A lot._

“I’m not ruling out the possibility that he could still double cross us,” Hank says, “but for now, I can’t exactly say that we don’t need his help either.”

“Yeah, I bet the guy’s wicked with a lightsaber,” Alex says. Sean and Darwin nod in agreement.

“So you don’t have a problem with him staying with us?” Charles asks, barely able to refrain from grinning. “Moira?”

Moira sighs. “I don’t know, Charles. I’ve spent even less time in his company than these guys have. All I have to go on are the past hours and that one Council meeting.”

Charles winces slightly, remembering _that_ fiasco. “You can’t really judge him on that alone.”

“I know,” Moira says. “I’ll save my opinion for when I know him better. I can say this though: whatever you’re planning to do will go a lot better for you if he’s on your side.”

“We’re going to be living in close quarters for awhile,” Charles says. “There’ll be plenty of chances for us all to get to know each other.”

 _Some of us better than others, hmm?_ Raven grins, the outer layers of her mind filled with thoughts of Erik. Charles shakes his head.

 _And here I was worrying that you wanted him gone_.

 _If we had told you that we could never trust him and that we truly, honestly think he’s planning on double crossing us and it’s in our best interests to get rid of him, would you have agreed?_

Charles hesitates. _…I don’t know_ , he finally admits. Maybe if they were truly sincere in their belief. But Charles also finds it difficult to believe that Erik is still with them in order to help the empire. After all, he’s seen Erik’s mind; he knows that there is more to Erik than darkness, and that he’s strong enough to escape the clutches of the Dark.

 _Exactly,_ Raven thinks, the thought feeling oddly sad.

* * *

Hank offers to take over from Erik in the cockpit when the rest of the Jedi are preparing to sleep. They’re about five or six hours away from Westchester at this point, but exhaustion has finally caught up to them. Hank’s feeling guilty that he’d been with the others instead of piloting, as Erik’s been sitting in the pilot’s seat for at least six hours. Charles feels his own twinge of guilt as he listens to Hank awkwardly asking Erik if he’d like to take a break; he’d fallen asleep lost in thought at the kitchen table. Hank yawns twice before he finishes speaking though, so Erik dismisses him curtly, saying that he’d rather not have a half-asleep pilot.

“You’ve been awake for just as long as I have,” Hank says defiantly.

“I was unconscious for about half an hour when we got to the ship,” Erik points out.

“I can take over,” Charles says, before Hank can retort that that didn’t count. “I took a nap for a couple of hours so it should be fine.”

Erik shrugs and looks at Hank. “That’s fine with me.”

“Alright,” Hank says, turning to leave, suddenly hit with relief to escape the pointless argument. Charles is glad to see that Hank’s taking his advice to stand up to Erik to heart though. It would be impossible for the Jedi and Erik to build any sort of sturdy relationship if Erik simply bulldozed over them whenever he wanted something. “Good night, Master.” Charles nods. _Sleep well, Hank._ There’s a short pause before he adds, “Good night, Erik.”

Erik freezes, briefly taken aback, but he replies, “Good night, Hank.”

Erik’s still for a moment after the door closes behind Hank, but then he stands up, all cat-like grace and stretches. Charles drags his eyes away from his lithe form and takes the vacated seat, preparing himself for hours of monotony by himself—not that he wants it to be broken by meeting another patrol. He’s thus pleasantly surprised when Erik settles into the co-pilot chair beside him and leans his head back, eyes closed.

“You’re not going to sleep?” Charles asks.

Erik cracks open an eye to look at him and shuts it again. “What do you think I’m doing right now?” he asks mildly.

“Why don’t you go sleep in the quarters? It’ll be more comfortable there,” Charles says.

“The Jedi and Moira have taken up all the beds,” Erik says and Charles blinks at his sudden, irrational disappointment at the answer. The padded seats in the cockpit are more comfortable than the hard plastic ones in the kitchen, so it’d make more sense for him to sleep here, of course—

“Charles,” Erik says, and Charles can tell that he’s debating whether it’s worth it to open his eyes just to roll his eyes at Charles. “The company’s better here.”

“Oh,” Charles says, not bothering to hide his happiness. He doesn’t want to disturb Erik’s respite further though; it’s been a trying day for all of them, and half an hour of unconsciousness through over-exertion of his powers is definitely not enough rest. He stares idly at the radar screen.

Erik mumbles something and Charles starts. He’d thought that Erik had fallen asleep. “I’m sorry?”

Erik sighs gustily and lifts his head to look at Charles. “I said, I wanted to stay with you.”

Charles can’t help but smile at the sleepy look on Erik’s face and wonders, considering the similar state of Erik’s mind, if he will even remember this when he wakes up. A soft snore interrupts his musings and he looks at him fondly, reaching out to soothe away the nightmares that haunt the edges of Erik’s subconscious.

When Westchester finally blinks into view, a tiny glowing orb hanging in space, Charles finds that he’s spent most of the trip watching Erik sleep, the way his eyelashes flutter slightly sometimes and the gentle rise and fall of his chest.

Charles hasn’t seen the planet in years. _Home but not home_. He doesn’t bother trying to dispel the feeling of bitterness. Then he glances toward Erik still in peaceful slumber next to him.

 _But perhaps it still could be._


	6. Chapter 6

Dark grey, stone walls loomed up at them, an oddly jarring man-made construct in a field—no, a planet—of overgrown wilderness. Vines have dug in their roots and climbed the stone. The east wing, from what Charles can see from his position at the back of their group, seems to have collapsed, perhaps because of a storm.  He hopes the generators haven’t stopped working, but even if it had, the supplies should still be usable and edible even if they’re not fresh; the preservation containers are, like everything else Brian Xavier owned, top of the line.

Charles feels his steps falter despite his attempt to distract himself by thinking of practical matters as they approach the imposing front entrance. The Jedi stare at the mansion in wordless wonder.

“All of this is yours?” Alex breathes, eyes wide; Charles remembers how he had found him living alone, a runaway headed toward delinquency, resentful of others and terrified of his powers.

“No,” Charles corrects gently. It’s vital that everyone understands this from the beginning. “It’s _ours_.”

“Come on!” Raven says, covering up any misgivings she might be feeling with a cheerful smile. “I’ll show you guys around!” She leads the young Jedi into the mansion, the door still set to automatically unlock for her, leaving Erik, Charles, and Moira behind.

“Be careful!” Charles shouts after them. Raven sends him a mental roll of her eyes.

“We should probably check the supplies,” Charles says after a moment. Erik and Moira turn from examining the grounds to look at him. “Actually,” he calls, when they move toward the door, “let’s go around.” He gestures toward a side path that winds past unkempt shrubbery, disappearing behind the corner of the mansion. Erik and Moira shrug and follow him.

“This was the servants’ entrance,” Charles explains as the door unlocks for him. The lights flicker on when they enter; apparently at least a few of the generators are working. Excellent.

Erik’s eyes sweep the small kitchen carefully before settling down in a chair, brushing off the dust first. He leans it back on its back legs and props his feet up on the similarly dirty kitchen table, ignoring Moira’s disapproving looks.

“We have a bit of work to do,” Charles says, taking note of the thick layer of dust on everything and thinking of how the rest of the mansion must surely be in the same state. He begins opening cabinets randomly, surprised at how much food is still sitting there, neatly organized.

“Supplies?” Erik asks.

“Lots of non-perishables,” Charles replies from where he’s kneeling on the floor sifting through a truly  massive cabinet. He crawls in a little more to check the cans in the back, feeling Erik’s mind brighten with interest. “Probably a lot more edible foodstuffs in the freezers.”

“Yep,” Moira calls out, checking the freezer rooms.

“Alright,” Charles says, backing out of the cabinet and brushing the dirt from his pants, ignoring Erik’s small sigh of disappointment projected rather pointedly into his mind. “Let’s go check the bedrooms.”

The Xavier mansion has hundreds of rooms of varying sizes and gaudiness. Charles decides to use the rooms closest to the kitchen as their assigned rooms; they’ll be spending most of their time training anyways and it’ll be practical to have the kitchen nearby. Besides, he’s never really liked his old room, with its large shadows and extravagant furnishings.

“The Jedi can choose rooms on this floor,” he says as he leads Erik and Moira upstairs, the lights flickering on as they walk up the stairs. He opens a door to check the state of the room and finds it untouched but with the distinct smell of an unlived-in room. It’s comfortable though, with a four-poster bed, a desk, a spacious closet, and an empty bookshelf. The other rooms are the same.

“We’ll take rooms one floor above them, if that’s fine with you,” Charles says when they reach the end of the hall. 

“Sure,” Moira says and Erik nods.

The bedrooms are larger on this floor, with attached bathrooms. Most of the rooms in the mansion, like the ones Charles had given to the Jedi, had shared bathrooms. He picks a room that has a nice—well once it’s trimmed and properly cared for again—view of the garden. Erik unhesitatingly takes the one next to him and Moira chooses one opposite his, after a pause.

“Right,” Charles says, rubbing his hands together. “Why don’t we grab a bite to eat?”

Erik leads the way back to the kitchen, steps sure and unconcerned. Charles had noticed him carefully constructing a mental map of the mansion based on what Charles said and what he had observed. No doubt he’d soon be filling in the rest of the blanks as well.

The Jedi are already sitting at the table, eating something that must have come from the food synthesizer on their ship, in the kitchen when they arrive. “This place rocks,” Sean says around a large bite. There’s a chorus of agreements muffled by chewing.

“I told them that you’d probably give them rooms on the floor above this one, near the kitchen,” Raven says, putting her cup down.

“Yes,” Charles says, smiling at her. “Any room on that floor’s fine. Why don’t you all go pick one after you finish eating?”

Charles follows the Jedi when they file out of the kitchen to head toward the stairs. “A word, Raven?”

“Sure,” she says. “What’s up?”

Charles hesitates before asking quietly, “How are you holding up?”

Raven glances away, one hand twisting at the hem of her shirt. “It definitely feels strange to be back here,” she says slowly. “It’s better with the others around though, you know?”

Charles smiles slightly. “I suppose it is.”

“How are _you_ doing?” Raven asks, looking over him critically.

“I’m not thrilled to be back,” Charles admits. “But this is our home. This is our chance to make new memories for it.”

Raven nods, seeming to accept his answer. “I guess. Promise me you’ll come talk to me if you need to, alright?”

Charles gives her a quick hug. “Of course, Raven. And the same goes for you.” Raven’s arms tighten around him for a moment and then she steps back.

“Tell the rest of them that you have the rest of the day off. We’ll start training tomorrow, so be down in the kitchen at 8 o’clock sharp.” Already halfway up the stairs, Raven waves a hand at him to show that she understood.

Charles sits down on the bottom step when she’s no longer in view and rubs his face tiredly with one hand.

“There’s no point hiding from a telepath, you know,” he says. There’s a split second pause and then the shadows open up to reveal Erik hovering by the doorway, where he had been deliberating whether to leave Charles alone or not. His steps are unfaltering, though, as he moves toward Charles and sits down next to him. He’s wondering if Charles wants to talk about whatever is bothering him.

 _No, I don’t_ , Charles thinks firmly. _But thank you, my friend._

 _‘Friend?’_

Charles looks at Erik out of the corner of his eye. He’s staring at his feet. _Yes,_ he thinks cautiously.

Erik seems disgruntled.

  _What do want me to call you, then?_

Confusion now; Erik doesn’t know, is confused that he doesn’t know. Charles feels a flash of—what? Disappointment? He finds himself puzzling over it and laughs to himself; it’s strange how he can read other people’s feelings but can’t even decipher his own. Erik jumps at the sound of Charles’s laugh but otherwise doesn’t move, still staring at his feet, or perhaps he’s staring at the little patterns on the carpeting.

“Where’s Moira?” Charles finally asks. His voice sounds odd even to him.

“She’s taking a walk in the garden,” Erik says. Charles catches the ghost of his next thought: _I don’t want to talk about Moira_. They lapse into silence again and Charles looks at the shadows and dust of the hall blankly. Above them come the muffled sounds of running feet and loud chatter, Raven’s bright voice and Sean’s laughter. The cheerful whistle of the teapot in the kitchen and the clack of Moira’s shoes as she returns to the kitchen to tend to it. Erik’s presence, solid and warm at his side. And suddenly, the place doesn’t seem at all like the mansion of Charles’s memories.

Charles turns his head to re-examine his childhood home. It’s not actually half-bad. He allows himself to imagine, for a moment, what the place would look like if he continue his Jedi Order here instead. The thought brings a smile to his face. He should have come back here to start it in the first place, he realizes, but he had made up excuses like the location needing to be near the people they’re helping to avoid returning and stirring up old memories.

Charles’s mind begins to whirl with the logistics of it, rapidly warming to the idea. They’ll need more supplies. They’ll need to establish discreet supply lines. They’ll need some way to locate Force-sensitives and recruit them.

But Charles is distracted from his musings when Erik shifts slightly and then, after a split second where Erik’s mind is practically screaming hesitation, swings his legs over so that his feet are on the step they’re sitting on and lays his head in Charles’s lap. His eyes close. _What do I do now?_ bounces through his mind, and he can’t tell whether it’s his own thought or Erik’s. Erik is wondering whether to pull away when Charles abruptly brings his hand up, softening the movement just before contact to run it through Erik’s hair.

And just like that, the tension seeps out of Erik and he relaxes into the touch like a contented cat.

They stay like that, as the shadows lengthen and Charles directs Moira to a different set of stairs that’s closer to where she’s sipping her tea in the garden.

“Charles,” Erik murmurs sleepily when the mansion has grown still the way houses do at night.

Charles smiles down at him even though Erik can’t see it. “Hm?”

“Nothing. I just wanted to say your name,” Erik says. Charles’s smile widens even though Erik can’t see it and Erik hums contentedly in his mind.

* * *

Breakfast is a cheerful affair the next morning; a good night’s sleep seems to have dulled the hurt from the previous days.  None of them know how to cook, so they just have another meal from the food synthesizer. Charles adds cooking to the list of things they’re going to have to deal with.

Erik appears halfway through breakfast, drenched in sweat from his morning run. He nods stiffly to Moira and the Jedi, catches Charles’s eye and gives him a private little smile, and disappears in the direction of the stairs. Charles is halfway out of his seat before he catches himself, managing to turn the motion into moving to put his plate away instead of following Erik out the door. The Jedi are too wrapped up in their own conversations to notice anything and Moira’s hiding a yawn behind her hand, but Charles sees Raven giving him funny looks through the rest of the meal.

When most of them are finished eating, Charles clears his throat to get their attention. “As you know, today we’ll be starting training,” he says. “Since Erik is going to be teaching you lightsaber combat, he wants to know your skill levels. So he’ll be spending a few hours today with each of you teaching you personally. After that, you’ll have group lessons.”

Hank and Sean exchange apprehensive looks. “What if he kills us?” Sean blurts out.

“Don’t worry,” Charles reassures him. “No one’s killing anybody.”

“And you?” Raven asks. “Will you be taking _private lessons_ with Erik too?”

“Of course he will,” Erik says from the doorway, smiling slightly. The Jedi jump at the sound of his voice. Charles rolls his eyes at Erik’s theatrics. _Don’t sneak up on them,_ he chides. _You don’t want them to fear you if you’re going to be teaching them._

Erik’s mind darkens for a second and then clears, leaving Charles wondering whether he had really sensed that brief flash. _Raven doesn’t seem to be afraid of me_ , he thinks with amusement. Raven is currently watching the two of them with narrowed eyes, suspicions in her mind.

“Well,” Erik says. “Lots to do today. Sean, you’re with me. Let’s go.” He turns around and strides off, the pointedly audible sound of booted feet on carpet quickly receding. Sean throws a panicked look at the rest of the Jedi before running after him.

“Alright,” Charles says, interrupting their wildly spinning imaginations of Erik “accidentally” murdering Sean. “The rest of you, follow me.”

 **…**

The garden that wraps around most of the house is large and sprawling, if overgrown. It’s calming though, with a strong presence of the living Force.

Charles leads them to a sitting area with crumbing stone benches shaded by a tall apple tree. The sunlight causes the shadows to flicker with light. “This is where you’ll practice your focus through meditation,” he says. “But first, we’ll have to clean the place up a bit.” He nods to the box of gardening shears and other tools sitting against a hedge.

They get to work and by the time Sean appears, looking half dead on his feet, they’ve cleared off much of the area. It looks rather charmingly worn down, Charles thinks.

“Alex,” Charles says. “Erik says it’s your turn.”

Darwin thumps Alex on the back encouragingly and he leaves for his training session, reassured by how Sean still has all his limbs firmly attached but not by much else.

 **…**

Charles supposes he shouldn't really be surprised when Erik tells him that his preferred form is Form VII. Erik's never been light-side, but he'd never truly embraced the darkness either. Mastery of Vaapad allows him to walk that grey area between the two. Still...

"I'm surprised you duel with a Jedi form," he comments, watching Erik viciously back Alex out of the training ring and into a corner of the room. As he watches, Erik easily disarms his opponent and points his lightsaber at him briefly before deactivating it. Alex takes Erik’s outstretched hand and heaves himself to his feet, eyes immediately falling on his water bottle.

"I found the Sith forms to be distasteful," Erik says, grabbing his water bottle. "Cowardly." His eyes finding Charles's for a second, before he takes a long drink.

Charles finds himself watching a bead of sweat slide down the side of Erik's face, hover tremblingly on his jaw, and make its slow, torturous way down the flushed skin of his neck. Unbidden, the feel of Erik from the previous night rises to his mind. He looks up to find Erik staring at him oddly and shakes himself.

Erik's gaze moves away at the motion to land on Alex.

"And where do you think you're going?" he asks conversationally. Alex, who'd been trying to edge out the door while Erik was distracted, throws Charles a pleading look. Charles just smiles and motions toward Erik, who's back in the training area staring at Alex impatiently. "Your footwork was terrible," Erik calls.

Alex closes his eyes briefly in despair and shuffles back into the ring.

Charles grins to himself—Alex is moving through stances again, mind intent with concentration despite his earlier complaints, while Erik circles around him correcting and adjusting.

 _Not that it’s not flattering and all_ , Erik thinks the next time he allows Alex a break. Charles realizes he’s projecting and hurriedly reduces the link. _But shouldn’t you be doing something?_

“It’s lunchtime,” Charles says. Alex, who’d been gulping water with a wary eye on Erik’s impatiently tapping feet, perks up.

“Already?” Erik says lightly, but he nods to Alex that he’s dismissed. He lifts an inquiring eyebrow when Alex comes to stand next to him instead of fleeing out the door.

“Uh. Thanks,” Alex mutters, shifting awkwardly on his feet. “I learned a lot today. So. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Erik says, after a moment. The smile he gives Alex is a lot less terrifying than usual and a lot more genuine.

Charles grins to himself. “Lunch?” he reminds them. Alex belatedly remembers that he’s starving and hurries off to the kitchen, where Darwin and Hank had cobbled together some sort of meal, with Moira’s helpful suggestions and Raven and Sean’s unhelpful laughter at their attempts.

“Shall we?” Erik asks, smile still on his face. Charles surprises both of them by tilting his head up to give Erik a brief kiss.

“Nice work today,” he says.

“They’re good kids,” Erik says, staring at Charles’s mouth. He looks torn between another kiss and the promise of food in the kitchen. His stomach decides for him when it complains loudly.

Charles laughs. “Let’s go eat.”

 **…**

After lunch, Charles takes a walk in the garden while the Jedi relax in the sitting room in front of the holoprojector, making sure to take note of which parts of the grounds needed the most work done. He’s made his way to a fountain he vaguely remembers falling into once as a child and is sitting on the rim of it, staring into its dry depth. It’s cluttered with dead leaves and branches.

“Hey,” Raven says, hands in her pockets.

“I thought you were watching the HoloNet?” Charles asks, patting the space next to him.

Raven sits down. “Well, Erik took Darwin,” she says.

“You make it sound like he kidnapped him,” Charles says, smiling. Raven shrugs and swings her legs back and forth.

“Anyways, the others sent me to get you.”

Charles nods in areement, but neither of them move.

Then Raven says, “What we’re doing… Promise me you’ll be safe, alright?”

Charles looks at her. “You know I can’t promise you that,” he says gravely. And he can’t. Much as he wants to promise her, reassure her that he’ll be safe, that they’ll all be safe, he can’t. It hurts him to admit that he can’t keep them all safe. But one man couldn’t hope to fight an empire.

“I know,” she says sadly. “But I don’t want any of us to get hurt. We’ve finally found people that, that care about us. I don’t want to lose this. We’ve already lost Angel.”

Charles feels his heart clench. “It was my fault,” he says quietly. “I never gave any of you the time you needed. Frankly, I’m surprised that more of them didn’t decide to join him.”

“Don’t say that,” Raven snaps. “It was her choice. Her decision.” She falls silent, then adds desolately, “It was probably because her that we got out when everyone else got captured anyways.”

Charles doesn’t have anything to say to that and they sit quietly next to each other, watching as a wind tumbles a leaf across the ground. It’s tossed to the left and to the right, until it finally gets trapped in the tangled branches of a tree.

“Remember when you fell into this fountain?” Raven asks finally, a hint of laughter in her eye.

“Right before the party too—Mother was furious,” Charles says, accepting the change in subject. “But I was delighted that I didn’t have to go anymore.”

Raven smiles a bit at the memory. “And then we built a tent in your room out of the covers and played Pazaak until midnight.”

“You always remind me of the good memories,” Charles says affectionately.

“We made the good memories together,” she tells him. “Besides, you would’ve been nowhere without me.”

Charles laughs then, but he knows that it’s true.

“Now come on,” Raven says, getting to her feet and tugging on Charles’s arm. “The others’ll be wondering where we are.”

He allows himself to be pulled to his feet and she links her arm with his. “What was that for?” she asks when Charles presses a kiss to the top of her head.

“That was thanks,” he says. “For being here.”

“Where else would I be Charles?” Raven says in fond exasperation. “You’re my brother and I’ll always stick with you, no matter what.”

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow it's been awhile. I'm very sorry for the delay; I know how frustrating it can be to read a WIP. But to those still following this story and new readers, Happy New Year! And don't worry, the action will be starting up soon xP

Dinner that night is a lively affair, and Charles smiles to himself at how his Jedi are allowing themselves to relax, to sink into the Living Force and let it guide them. To trust in it. He shouldn’t have been surprised though. They’re a hardy bunch, this mismatched group of lost souls that had become as much Charles’s family as Raven was. Moira along well with them, as Charles had suspected she would from watching her interact with his charges on the ship. So Charles puts aside his thoughts for the time being, enjoying the moment and the laughter and bonds of friendship glowing in the Force.

Erik watches them all with a sort of lofty amusement, not quite joining in their easy conversation, but not holding himself aloof either. He corners Charles after they've washed the dishes, placing an arm on either side of Charles's head and leaning in close. "You don't get to skip out on training, you know," he says.

Charles keeps his breathing steady with an effort. "Now why would I want to do that?" he murmurs, and Erik's eyes might have darkened a shade.

He shoves a little with the Force and Erik steps back a pace. “I haven’t been truly challenged in a duel in a long time,” Erik says, the dare obvious in his voice. His voice dropped lower. “I trust you won’t disappoint me.”

Charles gives him a lopsided grin. “You’re on.”

***

It is not long before Charles realizes he is outmatched in the sheer power that Erik is able to put behind his blows. Every clash of their lightsabers sends a jolt through his arms, as Erik is not holding back at all. He supposes he should be flattered.

The bright colors of their blades swirl and clash with each other in a dazzling display of blue and red. _Better than I had expected_ , Erik thinks, and the eavesdropped thought fills Charles with giddiness as they whirled together, more a dance than a duel. Erik fights like he thinks and acts, fast and ruthless and wily. Charles matches his cuts and lunges, but he’s being forced to the defensive as he tires. He finds that the hum of the blades, the swirl of color, and the glint of concentration in Erik’s eyes are all he needs to ground him, to shut out the world around him in a way he’s never managed before Erik had helped him end the riot on Ryalagra. It’s silent in all the ways that matter to him.

Charles finds that he is at peace.

A moment later, Erik sweeps his legs from under him and he lands flat on his back, dazed. The sounds of the world rush back into his mind and he lies there blinking blearily at the ceiling and the sudden onslaught of thoughts. A hand comes into view, followed quickly by Erik’s face. He looks worried and Charles grins, taking the offered hand.  
Erik is studying him thoughtfully. He’s barely broken a sweat, Charles noted ruefully as he grabs his water bottle.

“Not too fast,” Erik cautions as soon as Charles considers guzzling the entire contents. Charles reluctantly sips at the water instead, closing his eyes as the cool liquid soothes his throat.

When he looks up again, Erik has turned away from him and is pacing restlessly facing the wall, but looks up at the clunk of Charles putting the bottle back down on the table.

“Again?” Charles offers, but Erik shakes his head.

“Today was just a test to see how much you know,” he says.

“Did I pass?” Charles asks, smiling.

“You did well,” Erik admits grudgingly. “I thought you said you’d never learned before.”

“I mostly just studied the texts I found in the library,” Charles says. “They had diagrams and holos and such, but I’ve never had actual training.”

Erik tilts his head. “Then you did very well,” he amends.

“I let the Force guide me,” Charles says and Erik looks up with interest. “But you didn’t,” Charles hazards to guess, something he had sensed during their spar.

“No,” Erik trails off, looking away.

“Why not?” Charles asks curiously, although he can hazard a guess at the answer.

Erik hesitates before replying. “If I had, I would have hacked you to pieces. The Force that I command is not light like yours. It’s always a struggle not to go too far when I access it. It’s different when I’m moving metal because I have all my concentration on it, but when I’m dueling, it often overtakes me.”

At Charles’s slightly disbelieving look, he says with a twisted laugh, “You don’t believe me. But it’s true. I couldn’t risk hurting you.”

“You wouldn’t have,” Charles says firmly. “You are no longer what you used to be. You are…more.”

Erik flinches when he reaches out a hand to touch his face and then goes still when Charles cups the side of his jaw with his hand. “You don’t know what I’m capable of. I don’t know what I’m capable of,” he says hoarsely. “You don’t know what I’ve done.”

“No I don’t. But that was Darth Magnetus,” Charles says, ignoring Erik’s shudder at the name. It’s important that he understand this. “You hear me? That wasn’t you.” He lets his hand drop and picks up one of the clean towels hanging from a rack nearby. Wiping the sweat off his face, he turns to leave, heading for his room and a shower an sleep. After a second, Erik’s footsteps fall into place behind him.

 _Only you can decide who you want to be_ , he thinks to him.

 _What if I can’t be trusted to make that decision?_ Erik counters. _Would you really see the galaxy burn just because I made the wrong choice?_

Charles doesn’t let any of the images his mind conjured up at Erik’s words leak through his shields. Images of genocide, whole planets burning, his Jedis’ life energy seeping out of broken bodies to join with the Force—no. He would not think about that. There is no point dwelling on it, he tells himself firmly. It is not the Jedi way. _Concentrate on the Living Force_ , he says to Erik. _It will guide you in your choice._

Erik barks out a laugh. “You’ve mentioned this Living Force before. What exactly is it?” he asks aloud.

“It’s a difficult concept for me to explain,” Charles says slowly. “Your—the emperor never taught you about it?”

Erik’s eyes darken for a moment. “He taught me nothing except pain and how to cause it.”

Charles hesitantly puts a hand on his shoulder, wanting to comfort but not knowing how. _You can stay with me tonight_ , Erik thinks in response to his unasked question. _Not—I don’t want to do anything. I just want—not to feel so alone._

Charles realizes he’s gaping at him and looks away, flushing. Erik steps out from under his hand. “Forget it,” he says. His door slides open. “Sorry I asked.”

“No,” Charles says, gathering his wits and stopping the door with a flick of the Force before Erik disappeared behind it. “I want to.”

Erik’s eyes widen a fraction, but he merely steps aside so that Charles can enter. “Are you sure?”

“Quite sure,” Charles says. He drops down on a chair and then groans when he remembers that he still needs to shower.

“What?” Erik wants to know.

“I stink,” Charles says. He cracks open an eye to find Erik grinning. “Don’t laugh. You stink worse than I do.” He catches sight of Erik trying to surreptitiously move something with the Force, a whisper in Erik’s mind, and rolls his eyes. “Erik, you haven’t even slept in here yet. Why do you have a knife under your pillow?”

“Old habits,” Erik shrugs, shoving the blade into a drawer.

“In fact, I didn’t even know you had a weapon other than your lightsaber,” Charles mutters. “Please tell me you’re not actually bristling with knives.”

“I didn’t have a weapon,” Erik admits reluctantly.

“Then what—?” Charles catches sight of the missing arm on the chandelier in the room. No wonder it had looked different when he stepped inside. “I’m going to go shower,” he sighs. He waves a hand at the ceiling. “You can stay here and fix this.”

Charles catches a wisp of thought when he forces himself to his feet— _I don’t get to join you?_

“Some other day,” he says with a chuckle and Erik blushes, just a little.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean for you to hear that.”

Charles just smiles at him. “Like I said, Erik. Some other day,” he says. A wave of exhaustion suddenly hits him. “Go fix the chandelier. I want to sleep.”

He thinks he hears a muttered “Yes, dear” as he leaves but can’t be certain.

***

Charles jerks back awake when Erik slides into the bed beside him. He feels the silent apology he offers and gives him a small smile to show him that he doesn’t mind.

Still, he doesn’t fall back asleep until Erik’s breathing evens out to soft snores. The brief rustle of cool air when Erik had joined him has dissipated into comfortable warmth. If he raises his head a little, he can see moonlight and shadow flowing in a dappled pattern over Erik’s sleeping form. _This is nice_ , he has time to think, before sleep hits him like a rampaging bantha.

 

Everyone is already up the next morning when Charles wakes up. Their thoughts are loud in his head and he takes a moment to fully awaken, letting his mental shields fall back into place. Last night’s events suddenly surface and he looks to the side. Unsurprisingly, it’s empty. Charles flops back onto the bed, reaching out for the Force but sensing no negative emotions. Just calm and what feels like routine—except it isn’t, not yet. He smiles slightly and gets up, changing out of his sleep clothes.

The kitchen smells like food when he walks in. Hank is seated at the table, looking half asleep, mechanically shoving toast into his mouth. Darwin yawns as he sips hot caf, almost choking when he tries to swallow and laugh at something Alex had said. Alex slides off from his perch on the table when he sees Charles’s mildly disapproving look and drops into a chair instead. Moira is chatting amiably with Sean at the corner of the table. Charles catches Raven grinning at the scene before them and knows how she feels. It brings a warm feeling his chest at how the mansion is feeling more and more like home. Certainly not the way it used to be.

He sits down at the table and accepts the plate of toast Hank hands him. “Here,” Raven says, handing him a cup of caf when he absentmindedly starts looking around the kitchen.

“Thank you,” he says, even though caf hadn’t been what he was looking for. He’d much prefer some tea anyways, which she well knows.

She just smirks at him as Erik walks in, damp from the quick shower he takes after his morning runs. His eyes fall on the steaming hot caf in Charles’s hand and then up at Charles hopefully. Wordlessly, Charles passes it over, enjoying Erik’s soft sigh of contentment. When he looks back down at his plate, someone has placed a cup of his favorite tea next to his plate.

Erik snags a piece of toast from Charles’s plate and walks outside, the door closing quietly behind him. Charles frowns. Surely that’s not all he’s going to eat this morning? He grabs some more toast from the seemingly endless piles and puts it on his plate. “I’ll take this to Erik,” he says to nobody in particular. The sound of muffled laughter follows him out the door.

***

He finds Erik tinkering with a droid in the garden. He hadn’t been difficult to find; his presence shown out with a unique blend of light and shadow to anyone who cared to see.

“What are you doing?” Charles asks.

Erik doesn’t look up as he answers, hadn’t even jumped when Charles spoke. “Fixing this droid.”

“Why?”

“It’ll fix the rest of them,” Erik says. He screws something into place with a thought and gives it a pat. “There we go.”

“I never thought of you as a mechanic,” Charles says. Although now that he thinks about it, it makes more than a little sense.

Erik shrugs. “It’s all metal. And I’m not. A mechanic I mean. I just like to tinker with things.” As if in answer, the droid whirs to life, beeps a polite greeting at them, and rolls away, creaking slightly.

“I’m sure all the old droids here in need of repair will keep it happy,” Charles says, watching Erik’s eyes follow it. “…Is something wrong?”

Erik looks up, surprised. “Something wrong?”

“You seem distant today,” Charles says.

Erik laughs. “I feel fine today. Better than fine, actually. No nightmares,” he explains. “Better yet, no dreams either,” he adds as an afterthought.

“But how are _you_ holding up?” Erik asks before Charles can question him further.

“What do you mean?”

“I sense that this isn’t exactly a happy place for you,” Erik says carefully.

Charles feels a familiar denial instinctively well up before he catches hold of it and slowly releases it into the Force. He looks up to see Erik watching him and wants to shrug it off, except there’s a look of quiet understanding in his eyes, and who would have thought he’d ever be standing in this familiar garden with the old shadow of his ancestral home looming over them, while a Sith Lord watched him with compassion? He owes it to Erik to be forthright.

“My parents weren’t the most caring of people,” he says. He recounts the death of his father, the cold withdrawal of his mother, the arrival of his stepfather and stepbrother, getting lost among the army of servants and droids that maintained the estate, managing throughout the story at least the appearance of detachment. He tells Erik of meeting Raven one day when they had been off-planet visiting friends, and she had tried to pick his pocket. He’d befriended her in the days that followed, slipping away from the boring parties that his mother and stepfather enjoyed attending. She had come back with him.

“I’d already begun feeling whispers of the Force,” Charles says, smiling faintly at the happier memories once Raven had become his family. “It wasn’t all that difficult to suggest to my mother and stepfather that she’d always been here.” He pauses. “It’s not like they ever saw us clearly enough to be suspicious.

“You figured out how to do Force suggestion at that age?” Erik asks with surprise. His voice dropped lower, musing. “An untrained Force suggestion. It’s a wonder those people retained their sanity.”

Charles flushes, just a little. “I know,” he murmurs. The thought of what he had done, the _danger_ involved that he hadn’t even realized still fills him with guilt.

“I’m not judging you,” Erik says easily. “Force knows I’m the last person who should.” He waits a moment and then gently prompts, “Where did everyone go then?”

“Dead,” Charles says evenly. Erik’s not fooled by the tone though. He doesn’t reply, but he kind of settles a little, as if to show he’s willing to wait for eternity if that’s how long it took for Charles to get the words out. “I had left home by then, taking Raven with me. I was the only one tying her to this place anyways. We traveled together for a year, following the faint and broken trail of a mysterious Order that had served the Light long ago.”

“The Jedi,” Erik interjects.

Charles nods. “I was fascinated by the histories and bits of information that I found, and Raven humored me enough to join me, although she was interested in the things we found about the Force as well. And then one day, the family lawyer tracked us down. There had been a shuttle explosion, he told us. No survivors. I was shocked to learn that it had been over two months ago. He told me I had inherited all of my family’s holdings. That he was sorry for my loss.” He looks down at his feet and then back up to meet Erik’s eyes. “I hadn’t felt a thing. All that time getting closer to the Force, learning the old ways of guiding it. I hadn’t felt a thing.”

Erik places a hand on Charles’s shoulder. It’s warm through the cloth. Warm like the sunlight on his face. “People die all the time,” he says, not unkindly. “You don’t feel all of _their_ deaths do you?”

Charles frowns. “Of course not. But this is my family—”

“Were they?” Erik cuts, the harshness of his tone not directed toward Charles. Charles looks away.

“We don’t get to choose who our parents are. We don’t get to choose what happens to them, what happens to us,” Erik says and Charles feels the shadow in his words. “But we do get to choose our family.”

Distantly, Charles hears the laughter of his Jedi as they spill out into the gardens in search of their errant Master. Erik hears them too and his expression goes more shuttered. He stretches and says, “Time to start training. Empires aren’t going to fall by themselves, you know.”

Charles nods but makes no move to leave. “Give me a minute.”

Erik shrugs but pauses before he disappears behind a hedge. “Do not mourn for your family, Charles,” he says. Gesturing in the direction of young voices, he says, “They’re still alive.” A hesitant motion. Erik’s voice is light, and his mind is as shy as it could ever be, when he continues. “If I died, would you feel it in the Force?”

He’s gone before Charles has a chance to answer.

**Author's Note:**

> These are just my rambly thoughts; there's nothing actually important to the story here.  
> This fic is definitely one of my more ambitious works since before I mostly dabbled in one-shots and the occasional short story series. I've never crafted a world like this before, for all that it's mostly been done already; the Star Wars universe is rather expansive after all. Anyways I just liked the idea of Charles and Erik wandering around in space together and rebelling against the empire and all that. I also liked how the Star Wars universe already had the powers system in place with the Force--I just had to tweak it a little bit to fit better. Most importantly, I liked the play on dark and light and how it's almost a tangible thing with the Force.  
> (I also liked the thought of Erik in full Sith regalia wielding a red lightsaber, but you can hardly blame me for that one! And of course Charles would have a blue lightsaber and oh dear they're going to end up in an Anakin-ObiWan style lava beach divorce aren't they. *scurries off to rewrite the ending*)


End file.
